Better Left Unsaid
by captain-ally
Summary: Ianto's sick of feeling second best, and decides that enough is enough. Owen watches him fall in a downward spiral, and steps in to help Ianto rediscover who he is. But can Owen ever replace Jack? Jack/Ianto series.
1. Chapter 1

Ianto was sat underneath his desk, knees curled up underneath his chin. Tears were falling steadily down his face. "I wish he knew..." He whispered. "I wish he knew..." Ianto had stayed behind when Jack, Tosh and Owen had gone for a drink. Gwen had left with Rhys, after refusing to Retcon him. Ianto knew that if it had been anyone else, including him, then they'd never have gotten away with it. _What made Gwen Cooper so fucking special?_ He whimpered as realisation hit him. It was Gwen. It'd always been Gwen. Gwen was the one Jack was in love with. He should have seen it before, but Ianto had managed to delude himself into thinking he actually meant something into Jack. Ianto was normally smarter than that. He guessed Jack was an exception. Ianto's whole body shook as another sob rocked its way through him. He couldn't stop shaking. He clung to himself, scared that he wasn't in control of his body anymore. Ianto ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the roots. It hurt, but at the moment his heart was giving out enough pain to make his body numb, so he barely felt it.

Ianto had been so contained for the past few weeks. He'd been scared to show any emotion. He jumped when he heard footsteps. Ianto wiped his face quickly, praying silently that it wasn't Jack. He was surprised to see Owen bending down, looking at Ianto with wide eyes full of concern. "Ianto?" Owen's voice was soft and gentle, and welcoming in a weird kind of way. "What's the matter?" Owen took Ianto by the hand, hauling him out from under the desk.

"I can't...I don't...I can't do this anymore...Jack...I can't be second best anymore, Owen."

"I know, mate." Owen said, looking Ianto straight in the eyes. Ianto had never noticed how soft and warm Owen's brown eyes were before.

"But...Owen, I can't leave...But I can't be around him. I...I know he's in love with Gwen." Ianto flinched as he said it, like saying the words out loud made them final.

"Ianto, he cares about you..."

"Not enough." Ianto said, dully. "I've known it for weeks, months, I've just overlooked it. But I can't anymore. I just...can't."

Owen sighed. "Ianto, you must have known it was never going to last...I mean, you were never gunna live forever. It was always gunna end; Jack was always gunna move on..."

"I guess I just wanted more time." Ianto said, sadly.

Owen reached out and put a hand on Ianto's shoulder. "You have to let him go."

"I know...I just...Just..."

"Just what?"

"I love him. And that's not gunna go away."

Owen looked shocked, but then controlled himself. "But, Ianto, how are you gunna ever get over him by staying here?"

"I can't leave."

"No, but...You can't just hang around on the sidelines, waiting for him to change."

"He never will."

Owen nodded. "Have you never talked to him about any of this?"

Ianto looked crestfallen. "Some things are better left unsaid."

Owen smiled, softly. "I guess."

"But," Ianto started. "I feel better, talking to you, I mean." Ianto smiled back at Owen. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Owen said. Ianto nodded, and made to leave. "I mean it, Yan. Anytime, really." Ianto flinched. Jack used to call him Yan. Ianto looked back over his shoulder. "Anytime you need to talk, you know I'm here."

"Yeah." Ianto sighed. "I know."

"Hey, do you wanna stay over at mine tonight?" Ianto hesitated. "I just...thought you wouldn't want to be alone."

Ianto shrugged. "Used to it. But...Yeah, that'd be great. Thank you."

"Sure." Owen said, pulling on his coat. "Let's go."

"Wait, don't you have Jack and Tosh to go back to?" Ianto reminded him.

Owen looked indifferent. "Meh, they'll survive without me."

"Sure?"

"Well," Owen paused, smiling. "They'll have to." Ianto grinned, grabbed his coat, and then left with Owen. In the car, on the way back to Owen's, they made easy conversation, as if they'd been friends for years. Owen tactfully avoided the subject of work. Ianto was grateful for this. He knew he had to get over Jack Harkness, and Ianto was hoping that Owen would help him through this, because he was sure he couldn't do this on his own.


	2. Chapter 2

"You go in first," Owen said, pointing Ianto to go ahead.

"Owen, please," Ianto looked adorably fearful. "I can't face him...please; I need you to do this with me."

Owen sighed, but nodded, making his way into the Hub. Ianto stayed close behind, trying to be invisible. They both headed to their work stations. There was no one else here; at least, that's what Ianto hoped.

"Hey guys!" Jack Harkness boomed. Ianto's screen flashed, suddenly. An IM from Owen.

_Leave it to me_.

Ianto nodded subconsciously.

"So, what have you lovely people got for me today?" Jack asked, seemingly not happy with no response.

"Not much, Jack," Owen said. "Looks pretty quiet." Jack nodded.

"Might want to call Gwen and say she needn't bother coming in today. We'll call her if things get critical." Ianto said. Owen smiled at him encouragingly. "Doubt it, though. We're hardly on red alert level here."

Jack smiled, trying to attract Ianto's attention. He knew Ianto was talking to him, but the younger man was looking at Owen as he spoke.

"Well, Owen can do that." Jack said.

Owen looked like he was about to protest, but a fixed glare from Jack made him retreat. Ianto looked like he was about to burst into tears as Owen walked away, but he stared at his computer, tapping idly at his keyboard every so often. He refused to look up at Jack.

However, Jack was looking pointedly at Ianto, who was _still _doing his best to ignore him. Jack wished he wouldn't. He knew Ianto needed privacy, but it only made him more curious to know what was wrong. He noticed Owen smiling comfortingly across the Hub at Ianto, who smiled shyly back.

Jack was shocked. Had things gotten so bad that Ianto had turned to _Owen_ for advice? That really wasn't good. Normally Tosh would be the first choice for comfort. Sometimes, if it wasn't to do with him, Ianto would even go straight to Jack when he needed support. Jack was always touched, surprised, but mainly honoured that Ianto felt he could talk to Jack about things that were bothering him.

However, more recently, Jack and Ianto had been having more problems than usual, and nowadays it was normally Jack that was bothering the Welshman. So Jack hadn't had to comfort Ianto in a while, which was a shame, and something he missed. But he supposed he couldn't blame Ianto for feeling resentment towards him since he came back. He'd have done the same, if Ianto had just upped and left without warning.

Jack had never really thought about what must have been going through Ianto's mind when he'd found out Jack was gone. First of all, he thought it would have been anger. But he'd changed his mind since recent talks with Ianto had led him to believe that the younger man hadn't been angry. He'd been worried, scared, broken. He'd watched the CCTV footage of while he'd been away with the Doctor. Ianto was just...He looked dead. The thought made Jack shudder but it was the most accurate description of how his lover had looked. He'd never have wanted to cause him pain like that. Not ever again. He'd rather die a million time over than ever see Ianto like that again. It was heartbreaking.

But Jack still couldn't see why Ianto was ignoring him _now_. Had he done something wrong? He couldn't think of anything. But then again, Jack Harkness' biggest fan _was_ Jack Harkness. So it was hardly like he was going to pick out anything he might have done wrong.

So Jack would have to ask Ianto outright. He perched on the end of the Welshman's desk, still looking at Ianto, who was _still_ not looking at the immortal.

"Ianto?" Jack asked, gently. His eyes skittered across the room to see Owen was out of earshot.

"Busy, Jack." Ianto muttered.

"Yeah, I can see that." Jack replied, impatiently.

Jack reached out, pulling Ianto's face towards him. Ianto tried to jerk his head away, but Jack held on.

"Ianto." Ianto shook his head like a stubborn child. "Look at me, please." Reluctantly, the Welshman turned his head to look at him, and their eyes met. "What's the matter? Where were you last night?" Jack decided to try out his charm. "From the way you were going in that warehouse yesterday, I hoped I was in for a good night."

Jack chuckled, Ianto's eyes softened slightly, but his face remained stony. "I was fighting for my life, Sir." Ianto hissed. "No thanks to you."

Jack was surprised. "I didn't know you needed protecting."

_Of course you fucking didn't,_ Ianto thought. _You know nothing_.

"I don't, Sir, but some notice would be nice."

"Then wasn't really the best time." Jack reminded him.

Ianto sighed. "When you screamed, when I was being shot at, did you care about my safety, or was it the alien's safety?"

Jack's eyes wavered. That was all the assurance Ianto needed.

"I think that's all, don't you, Sir?" And with that, Ianto stood up, pushing his chair back, and headed over to where Owen was. He touched him on the shoulder. Owen was still on the phone to Gwen, but he pressed the receiver to his shoulder, muffling Gwen's voice calling: "Owen? Owen, are you sure? You really don't need me?"

Jack was shocked. He'd rarely seen Owen rather talk to anyone else over Gwen. Especially not Ianto. Whatever it was between them, it had definitely brought them closer. Jack was pleased in a way, but it was impossible to ignore the pang of jealousy that stabbed him in the stomach when Ianto touched Owen. It was quite clearly nothing erotic, but it still got to Jack.

He couldn't help it, he felt so protective over the younger man, which was so hypocritical. He knew he flirted with anything that moved, however when Ianto even talked to someone else, Jack was all set to knock out the other person if they even the tiniest bit of interest in Ianto. Which, it had to be aid, was hard not to. Ianto was not exactly what you'd call unattractive. In fact, he was bloody gorgeous.

"Hey, Owen, I'm gunna do a run down the road and get some breakfast in. You in?" Ianto asked.

Owen nodded enthusiastically. "Sure. Gwen, I gotta go," He said, pressing the phone to his ear hastily. "Yes, we'll call you. Bye." Owen cut the call, smiling apologetically at Ianto. "Sorry, mate, you know what Gwen's like."

Jack did a double take. Since when did Owen apologise?

"It's fine. Not your fault. Right, breakfast?" Ianto turned when he heard the cog door roll open. "Tosh! Heya. Owen and I were just doing a breakfast run. What do you want?"

Tosh grinned. "Bacon roll would be great, thanks." Ianto nodded, as did Owen, who turned to Jack calling: "Back in five!"

Jack nodded, dumfounded.

"You want anything?" Owen asked.

"Same as Tosh, cheers." Owen nodded sincerely, unsmiling, put a hand on Ianto's shoulder, steering him towards the door. Jack could do nothing but watch them go. What the...


	3. Chapter 3

Ianto took a deep breath of fresh air as they emerged into the bay. He was surprised to find his legs felt unsteady and his hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Yan, calm down!" Owen said. "It's okay, you did great!"

"But you were on the phone..."

"Just because I'm a man doesn't mean I can't multitask." Owen reminded him.

Ianto raised one sceptical eyebrow.

"What?" Owen looked offended. "It's a habit you learn to pick up in Torchwood. Especially with Gwen around."

"Mmm...Can't really disagree with you there. Damn useful at times." Ianto replied.

"Hell yeah," Owen held open the door of the café they always got food supplies from.

Ianto walked inside, a grin emerging from his severe blushing.

"Told you I was a gentleman."

Ianto laughed. "There are so many words I could think of to describe you..." Ianto considered it. "Nope, gentleman is not there."

"Bloody cheek," Owen muttered, but he was struggling not to laugh. He walked boldly over to the counter, addressing a sweet looking old lady. "Hiya. Er, Ianto, mate, bacon roll?"

"Not for me, thanks."

Owen just looked at him. "I am your doctor, I demand you eat something."

The older lady smiled. "He's right, y'know," She told Ianto. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day."

Owen nodded at this.

"Fine, fine!" Ianto held up his hands in surrender, and both Owen and the old lady smiled at each other triumphantly.

"4 bacon rolls please." Owen ordered.

Ianto moved closer to the medic, muttering: "Just to shut you up."

"No promises," Ianto looked confused. "Many people have tried, few succeeded."

"I'm not your average person," Ianto reminded the medic, turning to pay the old lady who was handing him the parcel of bacon rolls.

"You're right there," Owen muttered, far too quietly for Ianto to hear him. His eyes roamed down Ianto's body, before fixing themselves subconsciously on the younger man's arse. "You're like no other."

Ianto turned back to face him, smiling. "Right, let's get back." He said, leaving the café after thanking the woman.

"Wait," Owen said, putting a hand on Ianto's arm. They were out in the bay now, the cool air washing over them. "Let's stay out here for a bit." He indicated to the nearest bench.

"Won't the others..." Ianto started, but Owen interrupted.

"Who cares? Tosh won't mind, she never does, and Jack," Owen blew the air out of his cheeks. "Well, who gives two fucks what he thinks?"

Ianto laughed. "Owen, I..." He began, trying to find the right words. "Thank you for all of this. Really. I know you don't particularly like me..."

Owen shook his head. "Ianto, that's just work. It's a dog-eat-dog world out there. Surely you know that better than anyone else? You always seem to be getting eaten."

Ianto laughed. "Yeah...yeah," He said. "I suppose I am." He turned back to Owen. "But I couldn't have done any of this without you. Really, thank you."

"For what?" Owen asked, laughing.

"Caring." Ianto replied, without missing a beat. "Seeing me when I felt invisible. For being there."

"Hey," Owen said. "I always will be, from now on. I know what a pillock Jack is. You deserve much better." Ianto's eyes filled with tears. "Honestly. You don't deserve what he does to you. You think it goes unnoticed, don't you? But I see. I see how it breaks you, Ianto. And I want it to stop."

"So do I." Ianto muttered. "So do I."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks so much to my amazing Beta - Viva Para Amar, you really are awesome :D Also, I recommend her fics to ANYONE reading who loves a great read :) They are some of the best I have ever read :) xxx**

Jack was startled by a knock on his office door. He looked up, expecting Owen. But he was pleasantly surprised to find Ianto entering his office. "Ianto? Hi."

"Sir," Ianto nodded, not meeting his eyes. He placed a mug of steaming coffee on the immortals' desk. Jack reached across as Ianto dropped the bacon roll on top of a pile of paperwork, and grabbed the Welshman's hand. He held it tight before the younger man could pull away.

"Ianto..."

"Jack, what do you want?" Ianto asked, impatiently.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong." Jack replied, immediately.

"Nothing, Sir," Ianto mumbled, looking at his shoes.

"Ianto, I'm not stupid. And I know it's something I've done, so let me fix it."

"I don't want your sympathy."

"Good. I wasn't going to give you any." Jack replied.

Ianto sighed. "I've had enough, Jack."

Jack looked taken aback. "Of Torchwood... or of us?" Jack wasn't quite sure which one would be worse for the Welshman to answer with.

Ianto took a deep breath. "Us."

"Why, Ianto? What did I do?"

Ianto stared at his boss, contemplating. Suddenly, the quiet was swept away, leaving behind only the loud, angry man that Ianto bottled away. "I've had enough of watching you moon after Gwen, and I'm sick of hurting every time you eye up someone else. I've dedicated my whole life to you, to Torchwood. I would have – and nearly have - died for this stinkin' job, to protect you. And I get nothing in return. Can you imagine how that feels?" The Welshman took another deep, steadying breath. As much as a relief as this was – to get it all out there – his hands were shaking, and his legs wobbled. He forced himself to steady.

Jack sat back in his chair, shocked by the young man's outburst. "I had no idea..."

"Of course you didn't. You don't notice me." Ianto commented, returning with a visible effort to the quiet persona he usually occupied.

"That's not true!" Jack replied, indignantly.

"You don't notice how much it hurts me." Ianto continued.

"Because you don't exactly make it obvious."

Ianto just looked at Jack, and the older man knew he'd said the wrong thing. "_Owen_ noticed. _Owen_. The man who used to hate my guts noticed, and the man I trust my life with didn't."

"Shit." Was all Jack could say. "Shit, Ianto, I am so sorry."

"It's a bit late for that. I just...I can't. Not anymore."

"Ianto, please...I can change, I..." Jack was desperate, and Ianto could see right through him like a pane of glass. It seemed so easy to know who Jack really was, now.

And he pitied him.

"No you can't. You'll always be the all-flirting, all-bravado Captain Jack f-ing Harkness. You won't ever change. It's me that's got to. And moving on from you is one of my first changes." The relief came in surges – washing over him like inconsolable waves. How long had he waited to say that?

"Don't do this...please, Yan. I really thought you cared about me." Jack said, dropping his head into his hands.

Ianto snorted. "That's rich coming from you! _You're_ Mr No Strings." Ianto reminded him.

Jack stood up, suddenly, practically running round the desk, grabbing Ianto round the waist with one hand, the other cupping his cheek gently. He looked deep into his eyes as he vowed: "Not this time." Ianto looked confused. "You say I'm Mr No Strings. Not this time, Ianto."

"Words, Jack...they're just words."

"What do you want me to do?" Jack was running low on options.

"I don't fucking know." Ianto replied, exasperated.

Jack thought it not a good time to remind the younger man how much he loved it when he swore. "You're right." Jack said, simply.

"Pardon?"

"You're right. I flirt, I lie, I cheat. I am a monster, though I never intended to be. I don't treasure you enough. But I do care about you, Ianto. So much. And you can deny it all you like, but you can't honestly stand there and say that you feel nothing for me. We both know that isn't true."

"I do," Ianto whispered. He raised his eyes to meet Jack's. "I truly do. I feel everything for you, and I want to give it all to you. But I don't know how many more of your games, how much more of your _crap _my heart can take. It hurts too much, Jack. I...I'm sorry." Ianto leaned in, kissing the immortal gently. Lovingly.

And then, Ianto pulled out of Jack's arms, and strode out of his office. And the older man was left with nothing but the faint taste of his ex-lover on his lips to remind him of the man he'd lost...

*

Ianto was horribly close to breaking point, his stomach was churning, and he found it hard to see straight. Owen looked across from his desk, and was devastated by what he saw. He ran to the Welshman, taking him in his arms, making soothing noises he wasn't aware he could. "Shh, Yan, it's okay."

Ianto looked up at the older man, his blue eyes shining. "I did it, Owen."

"Did what?" Owen whispered.

"I told him," Ianto replied, voice shaking. "I told him everything."


	5. Chapter 5

Ianto frowned as the phone on his desk rung, the shrill sound startling him. Who could be phoning at this time? As he picked up the phone, he inwardly cursed; he should have known. He really wasn't in the mood for a chat with Gwen Cooper...

It was the end of another long day at Torchwood and Ianto Jones was exhausted. He'd had to work double hard to avoid Jack, who'd tried and failed to get him on his own on various occasions throughout the day. Owen had suggested a rape alarm (god knows why he'd had one in his bag) when Ianto had moaned to him, but the Welshman had quickly declined the offer and moved away hurriedly to the coffee machine before Owen could tempt him.

It was at 8:30pm that he got a phone call from Gwen. Everyone else was still there; Tosh, Jack, Owen and Ianto had been working flat out to cover for her. Jack had suggested calling her in, but Ianto had quickly reminded him that they had, in effect, given her the day off. Plus, he wouldn't be able to see her making eyes at Jack without screaming at her. She was one of the only ones who had a life outside of Torchwood, he had very smugly quoted Jack in a very accurate American accent, making Tosh and Owen giggle. However, it had only earned him a disappointed look from Jack. But he'd shrugged that off. Who cares about Jack? Ianto knew Jack was his boss, and he'd be all to happy to remind the Welshman about respect and all that crap, but the last thing Ianto wanted to pay Jack now was respect. More like a punch in the face, but there you go – the only things stopping him were the look on Owen's disapproving face in his mind and the threat of impending lawsuit.

So, Ianto was surprised to hear from Gwen; he thought she'd be making the most of her day off.

"Ianto?" came her voice down the line. "Hiya!"

"Hey Gwen, what's occurring?"

Owen smiled across at Ianto from his desk; work was boring, and he'd much rather listen to Ianto. He found Ianto's typical Welsh sayings adorable.

"I know you've been busy today," Gwen replied. Ianto was about to argue, but Gwen, as ever, stopped him. "And don't tell me you haven't, I checked on my laptop. You've been rushed off your feet, and I feel awful," _Of course you do, you smug bitch_, Ianto struggled to keep his thoughts to himself. "At least let me buy you all a drink tonight? What do you say? The Torchwood team out on the razzle."

Ianto laughed. "Hold on," He said, quickly, placing a hand over the receiver. "Who's up for getting pissed tonight?" He called across the Hub.

Tosh and Owen immediately looked up from their computers, smiling. Owen nodded, looking at Tosh and discussing good places to go in town.

Ianto decided to be a good sport. "Jack?" He called.

His boss' head appeared around his office door immediately. He was surprised to he hear Ianto asking for him; the younger man had been avoiding him all day. "What's up, Ianto?"

"You up for getting absolutely slaughtered with your team tonight?"

Owen smiled at Ianto, pleased with his attitude. Although he wasn't exactly happy with Jack's treatment of Ianto, he couldn't stand the thought of Ianto stooping to the immortal's level of arrogance.

Jack seemed to consider it briefly. "Nah, you're alright. I have a ton of paperwork. You kids go have fun."

Ianto grinned. "Always do."

The three of them left the Hub, Owen helping Ianto into his coat, with a growl of discontentment from Jack that blissfully went unnoticed by everyone else.

_Letting your team get pissed without you,_ Jack thought, sighing, _that's just irresponsible, that is. _He walked back into his office, reaching in his desk drawer as he sat down in his chair. He pulled out a tatty picture of him and Ianto. He smiled, stroking the smooth paper. He loved Ianto, he really did. He just hoped he got a change to prove it.

Jack knew Ianto had said that all his promises were just words...and hell, he'd made enough of them. But he didn't know what else he could do! Knowing trying to concentrate on paperwork would be pointless, Jack leant back in his chair, racking his brains for anything that would help win Ianto back...

*

"The thing is," Ianto said, downing his beer. It was his...what, fifth, and his words were starting to slur. But everyone else was too pissed to notice, even Tosh, and she never got drunk. "He never loved me. Not ever."

"I think," Gwen added. "Jack Harkness doesn't know how to love."

"True that," Ianto nodded.

"Well, he'd had enough practise..." Owen muttered.

"But that's the _thing_, Owen," Gwen told him, her Welsh accent elongating his name to twice its usual length. On Ianto, it was dead sexy. On Gwen, it was damn annoying. "He's loved, probably hundreds of times over. And he's always ended up alone. It's hurt him so many times he just can't do it anymore."

Owen finished his drink, sighing. That was another 'Disney' moment from Gwen, then. "Right," Owen stood up. "I would offer to get another round in, but we're all off our faces as it is, so I think anymore would knock us out."

"Mmm," Tosh murmured, also exiting her seat. "I'm ready to head home." 

"Yeah, Rhys'll be wondering where I am," Gwen said. _I'm sure he'll just be glad of the peace and quiet_, Owen thought, but decided not to say anything. Even drunk, Gwen would be sure to give him a good slap for that.

"Yep," Ianto stood, swaying slightly. He steadied himself on the small table littered with glasses and empty crisp packets that they had been sat around. He had a sudden urge, through the pounding in his head, to pick up all the packets and put them away, but resisted. "Let's make a move." (Made me LOL. This is the sort of detail that really makes a story)

*

It was just Owen and Ianto now; Gwen had drunkenly staggered down the street - in the opposite direction of her flat, Ianto noted, but kept quiet. Serves Gwen right for drinking so much, Ianto thought, bitterly. Okay, maybe he was a tiny bit sour about Jack. Just a little bit.

Tosh had left soon after, swaying down a side alley, which she claimed was a short cut to her apartment. Ianto doubted she would make it into work the next day...or, he thought, blinking blearily as he tried to focus on the face of his watch, in a few hours. He suddenly found this uproariously funny for no real reason, and Owen joined in the laughter, even though he had no idea what the Welshman was laughing at; it was good to hear.

So, it was just the two men, giggling and clinging to each other and objects around them. Ianto had tried to steady himself on what, from his point of view, looked like a post box, and later found he was holding onto a girl's arse.

She looked up, indignantly. "Look, mate, I don't mind, or nothing, but at least tell me your name first, yeah?" 

"Owen Harper." Ianto replied, smiling. "Google it."

Ianto walked off, still smiling to himself. He heard yells of protest behind him, but ignored them. "You bastard," Owen muttered.

Ianto reached out an arm to push the medic, but missed entirely. He swore as his hand made contact with a brick wall, grazing the skin. "Shut up," Ianto warned, as Owen began to laugh.

"Sorry," Owen replied, still struggling to control his manic giggling, not helped by the half dozen beers he'd downed not half an hour before.

"Y'know what?" Ianto asked, suddenly. "Jack and I never did this. Not once. Not ever,"

"Really?" Owen was surprised. "But you're so cute when you're drunk!" _Oh, crap_.

Ianto blushed, relieved it was dark. "Thanks," Ianto mumbled. "But Jack clearly didn't think so."

What he hell was he doing? Reminiscing at a time like this? What was the point? It only emphasised the dull ache that his heart now held, magnified by the pounding in his head.

"Jack's an idiot," Owen said, immediately, wrapping an arm around Ianto.

"He's your boss," Ianto reminded him.

"Doesn't mean I can't think he was a fool for letting you go," Owen replied. Ianto stared up at the older man, eyes wide and glistening with hope.

Owen's own eyes were filled with lust, Ianto recognized it, and he craved it. It had been so long that Jack had looked at him with eyes like that. So full of love, longing. Ianto reached up, pulling Owen's head down so that their lips finally met...

And Ianto was startled by his body's reaction. He'd expected his body to go sex-mad, driven by being in a clinch with an attractive older man, full of hate, full of rejection, going crazy with the desire to be _wanted_.

But it didn't feel like that at all. It felt horrible...so wrong, so betraying. Jack must have cheated on Ianto dozens of times, but did it feel like this every time? Did Jack feel the same way as Ianto did, searching Owen's lips for any sign of Jack, any sign of home?

Ianto couldn't stand it, and, pulling away, he mumbled: "I'm sorry, Owen. I'm so sorry." And then he turned, and ran. Despite Owen's yells falling short behind him, he kept going; he kept running, trying to run away from himself, and all the pain he felt.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks so much to the brilliant Viva Para Amar, my incredible beta - none of this would be possible without you :D**

Ianto Jones entered the Hub at an impressive 8:30am. His head was still spinning, he didn't want to put in an appearance, but he knew he had to. Last night had been a mistake, a massive one, one that may have cost him a friend if Owen expected more to come. Ianto wasn't willing to give that. He still hurt too much from Jack; he couldn't go through that again. He needed space, and he hoped Owen would give him some. He also knew Owen wouldn't make it in before midday, so there was no chance of running into him, which was a good thing.

Jack Harkness woke up with a start, the siren of the door opening acting as a very effective alarm clock. Jack sat up, and found his neck was sore; he'd fallen asleep at his desk. Typical. And he hadn't gotten anywhere with the plan to win Ianto back. But that had definitely conjured some odd dreams. Something about a beret...and Ianto...Jack swallowed as he felt something stir in his trousers.

Straightening his hair, and yanking his braces into place, Jack left his office, praying it wasn't Owen. The bastard had been acting far too smug since Ianto had crossed over to his side of the battle line. Jack couldn't exactly blame Ianto. He could see right through the innocent act. The night Owen had left the pub and not come back, that was the night everything had changed. And Jack knew exactly how Owen could get Ianto on his side. The way he always did. Jack inwardly cursed. He couldn't think of Ianto like that...he wouldn't. Not after everything he and the Welshman had been through; Ianto couldn't just betray him. But it Jack had done exactly that, a few horrible times. It'd never felt right. Not once had Jack not regretted cheating on Ianto.

But still, Jack didn't fancy facing the bastard who might have slept with his ex-lover. That was unforgivable.

So, Jack was shocked to find Ianto standing by the coffee machine, suit pristine and looking perfect, though the dark circles under his eyes were impossible to miss. Jack instantly regretted never taking Ianto out on a drinking spree. It would have been brilliant to see Ianto drunk.

But Jack was surprised to not see Owen shadowing Ianto, or at least sat at his desk, watching his every move intently. However, Jack was pleased. He was desperate to spend some time with just Ianto. "Piss up didn't go well, then?" Jack asked, jokingly.

Ianto seemed not to see the funny side. "It went fine." He replied, coldly, turning his back on Jack, suddenly finding the coffee machine fascinating.

Jack resisted the urge to put his arms around the Welshman's waist and pull him close, instead just stood, awkwardly, trying to make sense of everything that was flying round in his head. "Ianto, is anything alright?"

Ianto sighed, quietly, but Jack didn't miss it. "Everything is fine,"

"Fine is just a word you use when you don't want to admit your real feelings," Ianto cursed. "You forget how well I know you." Jack whispered.

"How well you _think_ you know me," Ianto corrected, turning round to face his boss. Albeit beautiful, his face was hurt...betrayed…a thousand emotions Jack Harkness hoped never to see on his ex-lover's face.

"No," Jack wasn't willing to fight the toss over this, Ianto knew he was right. "So, what is wrong?"

Ianto just shook his head.

Jack sighed, exasperated. "Ianto. Just because we used to be together, doesn't mean you can't talk to me. In fact, I'm probably the best person to talk to, seeing as I..."

Ianto couldn't take Jack's babbling a second longer. "It's Owen," He told his ex-lover, simply.

"What?" Jack was surprised. "Owen? You two seemed joined at the hip."

"Exactly," Ianto muttered.

"What happened last night? Honestly."

Ianto was about to make an excuse to run off the archives, but then realised trying to get away from Jack was futile. "I...we..." Ianto paused, trying to make sense of it all. "We...well, we were both so drunk, and we..."

"Had sex in an alleyway?" Jack suggested.

"No, that was us. And I seem to remember only _you_ were drunk," Ianto couldn't help smiling.

"Ah, but that was good though, wasn't it?" Jack grinned, remembering, and Ianto felt something inside him melt.

"Regardless, no, we didn't." Ianto stopped, processing what Jack had just said. "You really think I'd _sleep with Owen_?"

"I don't know..." Jack admitted. "As I said, you two have become pretty close recently…I...I wouldn't blame you." Jack told Ianto, honestly. "I wouldn't blame you, if you did."

"Well, I haven't," The Welshman replied, curtly. "And I don't intend to."

Jack was more than relieved; the thought of Owen and Ianto together made him want to puke, but he was also concerned. "I think Owen may have other ideas."

"Oh, I bet he does," Ianto muttered, bitterly. Owen had made his ideas clear last night, judging by the unmistakable bulge in his trousers. It'd been feeling that against his leg that had given Ianto's brain enough time to catch up with his body, that had made him run. Ianto knew he should be flattered, but, honestly, he was kind of disgusted. The thought of sex with another man...it made Ianto shudder. Thinking about sex, all Ianto could imagine was the feel of Jack's body against his own. He had to stifle a wistful, wanting moan.

"What?" Jack was shocked, albeit betrayed. What the hell had Ianto meant by that? Had he been lying about not sleeping with Owen? Why couldn't Ianto trust him? Jack realised he sounded like a teenage girl, and tried to shut his brain up.

Ianto had had enough of this. "Jack, what are you, my mum?"

"No..."

"Then what's with all the questions?" Ianto asked, irritably. Jack didn't want him, so why did he make it so damn difficult for Ianto not want _him_?

"I care about you, Ianto; I care about what happens to you." Jack insisted. He wasn't going to let this one go. Ianto thinking Jack didn't care about him was ridiculous. Jack cared about Ianto more than anything else; he was more than just the immortal's best friend, he was his shoulder to cry on, the one who had always been there for him. And the one he thought would always love him.

"Owen said..." The Welshman swallowed, heavily, before continuing, "Owen said you were a fool to let me go." Staring straight into his ex-lovers eyes, Ianto forgot to keep breathing, something Jack had a knack for making him do.

"I was," Jack replied, immediately. "I know I was," Jack didn't quite know where he was going with this, but this could be his last chance to admit his true feelings to Ianto. For once in his life, he had no doubts about how he felt. He loved, _needed_ Ianto, and that was it. "I'd give anything to get you back. I...I love you."

Ianto's throat tightened, and he felt his eyes filling with tears. He didn't want to hear this, not now. Before...when he was about to walk out of the door. Not now.

"I really love you," Jack continued. "And yes, I was an idiot to let you go, and I regret it more than anything. And I sure as hell won't make that mistake again. If you give me a chance to, you'll see that."

"How do I know I'm not just convenient?" Ianto asked, scared of the answer. But he had to know.

"That's the last thing you've ever been, Jones, Ianto Jones." Jack's own eyes were full of threatening tears now.

Ianto had heard enough, and he had no doubt he was making the right decision as he reached up to cup Jack's cheek, caressing it gently. Jack, eyes fearful, leant down, resting his forehead against Ianto's, his arms sliding around the younger man's waist.

Ianto was just building up the courage to kiss Jack, desperate to feel the immortal's lips on his, when Owen Harper walked in. On seeing the pair, lips inches apart, Owen couldn't help the disgusted moan that escaped his lips. Ianto's head snapped round to face him, and the sight that met the Welshman wasn't a pretty one. Owen looked somewhere between shocked and devastated. It wasn't a good look.

Jack and Ianto sprung apart, Ianto practically running across the Hub to the archives. He had to hide...he had to make sense of it all. He wanted Jack...but Owen really cared about him...but he wanted Jack so much...Hell, he didn't know what he wanted anymore.

He loved Jack, he really did.

But he couldn't ignore the devastated look on Owen's face at the sight of him and Jack, and how that expression had caused his heart to pound...


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing, I love you all so much! :) A special faanks to Viva Para Amar - for the amazing beta work she does for me :D xx**

So many emotions...so many chances wearing thin...so many feelings he couldn't make sense of...

Ianto's head was on the verge of exploding. He was deluded with his love for Jack... the bastard had an uncanny knack for making his heart pound. Ianto had always wanted Jack, and that was going to change anytime soon, worst luck. But his indescribable feelings for Owen were driving him to distraction. The way his smile made Ianto's stomach melt; Ianto always felt _safe _around Owen. He knew Owen would never do anything to hurt him. Unlike Jack.

Ianto was amazed at how the wall he had built up to protect himself from Jack had fallen as soon as Jack had advanced. The older man had just had to whisper a few sweet nothings, and Ianto was fully on board again, the hurt and pain he'd suffered for the immortal forgotten.

Owen had cared about him, something Jack hadn't bothered to do up till now. Maybe Ianto finally giving up had been the wake up call the older man had needed. But was it just too little, too late?

Ianto was contemplating banging his head against the wall, hoping it would help straighten up his thoughts, or at least knock him out so he didn't have to think them again, when Owen appeared, his face a mask of embarrassment. "Ianto?"

"Who were you expecting?" Ianto asked, sarcastically. "Janet?"

"Well, you know me," Owen grinned. Yep, something in Ianto definitely went liquid. "Always up for a wild ride,"

"Yeah, thanks for that, Owen," Ianto smiled, weakly. "I'll be having nightmares for weeks now."

"Happy to help," Owen replied.

Ianto, not knowing what else to say (his brain had failed on the witty comebacks front), shoved his hands in his suit pockets, leaning against one of the book cases in a failed attempt to try and look casual. Instead he just looked awkward. "What did you want, Owen, I'm kind of busy..."

"No you're not," Owen cut him off. He sighed. "Look, I don't want us to be like this...it's so awkward, I'm nearly suffocating in the amount of tension around us."

"I wasn't aware there was an us," Ianto, in his haste to sidestep the allegations, forgot to leave sufficient space between 'an' and 'us'. Owen had to stifle a laugh.

"I thought we..." Owen started. Ianto couldn't stand the crestfallen expression he was wearing, and stopped the older man before he could make Ianto feel any worse.

"Look, Owen, I don't know what last night meant to you...I hope nothing," Owen's new, devastated expression broke Ianto's heart. "That would make this easier. I...as much as I don't want to, I really love Jack." Owen's face fell a mile, though he quickly disguised it, pulling back on the black mask he usually wore. "I do, and it hurts...but I do. And you're amazing, and anyone would be lucky to have you. I mean it," Ianto added, when Owen looked disbelieving. "And I...I think you're too good for me."

"Jack doesn't deserve you," Owen said, abruptly – desperately. He knew it would be impossible to try and convince Ianto to leave Jack, but at least he could set him up for the fall he was inevitably going to suffer every time Jack looked at Gwen, or anyone else. "He doesn't. Sorry, Yan, but...how can you love him? He treats you like nothing. You know that better than anyone else."

"Things can change," Ianto insisted, not sure he believed it himself. Maybe they couldn't... Oh God, Ianto knew that would tear him apart. He knew Jack had promised things, hundreds of times over, and they rarely played true to his words. Jack had sworn things would change before, and surprise, surprise, they hadn't.

"Oh yeah?" Owen snorted. "How many times has he used that one on you? I can't believe you still _fall_ for it. Every time!"

"How I feel about Jack is out of my control," Ianto's voice was shaking with anger. "And it's _not_ for you to have an opinion on."

"It was alright for me to have an opinion when the big boss dropped you," Owen reminded the Welshman. "When you were alone, you welcomed my opinion. Now Jack's calling you back like a little dog, you don't need me, do you? So you drop me, just like he dropped you."

"Owen, I'm sorry you feel that way, but..." And Ianto meant it. He really did, he knew how Owen felt, and he couldn't stand it. He could only think of one thing to say to make it better, but he couldn't...he didn't...

"No you're not!" Owen exploded, unable to contain his emotions. His feelings were being splayed out like an open book for Ianto to take a good long look at. It'd never been this way before...not with Dianne, not with Tosh, not with anyone. What made Ianto so special? Owen had repressed his feelings for so long, why couldn't he keep it up? "You don't care, just like Jack didn't. You figure it doesn't matter, trying to convince yourself it'll be okay. That they'll survive without you. And the ones left behind...They have nothing. And no one _cares_. I picked you up, when you needed someone. So who's there for me?"

Ianto didn't quite know how to answer that; he'd never heard the medic talk with such passion. And what he said made sense, of course it did, and most of it was _true_. And that was what broke Ianto's heart most. "Owen, I can still be here for you," Ianto replied, gently. "But I think you want more than that..."

Owen's face was contorted in rage. "Who cares what I want?" Owen laughed, humourlessly. "If you really cared, you would consider how _I_ felt."

"How do you feel?" Ianto asked, knowing full well he wouldn't like the answer Owen gave him.

"You know _exactly_ how I feel, Ianto," Owen snarled. "Because you felt the same not two days ago," Owen stared Ianto out, his eyes so dark and threatening the younger man had to look away. "And I finally know what you meant...when you said how much it hurt. I know how much it hurts,"

Ianto winced. "Owen, I'm sorry…"

"Scary to think you and Jack are so similar, isn't it?"

There was no way that could be true, could it? He and Jack...they were completely different. Ianto could never do the things Jack did...but he'd done them to Owen. And with one, last furious glare at Ianto, Owen stormed out of the archives. He'd had enough. And he prayed this would be the last of it...though he knew it wouldn't. His feelings about Ianto weren't going to go away any time soon...

And Ianto was left to battle with the idea of him and Jack not being so different after all...


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Thanks to my fabulous beta, Aimee, for the kicks up the arse and the incomparable advice :D I hope I do you justice! xxx**

"_You're just like him..."_

"_His part-time shag..."_

"_Just a tea boy..."_

"_I love you..."_

"_You've really fallen for him, haven't you?"_

"_You know he can never love you back..."_

"_I'll never die..."_

_So many names, so many voices, so much Ianto didn't want to see, didn't want to hear...Owen, Jack...Tosh, Gwen...sometimes the same voices, same words... and they were all saying the same thing, all warning him...all trying to make him feel better...Jack, always hurting him...Owen, always needing him...Tosh, always comforting him...Gwen, always rubbing his face in it. Never enough, Ianto was never enough. Never good enough, never smart enough, never fast enough. His whole life was speeding past him, and he couldn't catch up. What'd he done in his life? Shagged his boss, saved the world a few times...Even his _team_ didn't need him. _

_  
He knew what they thought of him. Knew what they all thought. Even Jack, so pitying... None of them cared about Ianto. No one cared…no one...no one..._

"_You and Jack are so similar..." _

Jolting awake after what felt like years of bad dreams, Ianto Jones gasped for breath as he attempted to make sense of it all. Something he'd failed at, another fail. Another thing he couldn't put right.

His dreams, ridden with fears and wishes, broken promises and scars, all made by Jack, had terrified him. Knocked him for six, and stolen his thoughts for the rest of the day.

Ianto felt so lonely, so empty, so broken. Like happiness was a million miles away, and he had to crawl across broken glass to reach it. And Ianto was sick of it. Tired of never getting what came so easily to others. Never being one of the lucky ones, with a perfect life. His life was...strange, weird...indescribable...and so far from perfect. Well, Ianto Jones' kind of perfect, anyway.

When he'd met Lisa, he thought that would be it. He could see his life falling out in front of him, his life with Lisa. Spending every minute with the woman he loved, having kids and being happy. He had a great job, he was nothing special at Torchwood One, but it was still great to be a _part_ of something. To be included, wanted by the people he worked with. Being _important_ was something Ianto Jones was a stranger to.

Suddenly feeling very claustrophic cocooned in sheets, Ianto pulled his way out of them, falling with a thud onto the floor. He didn't feel the pain.

Feeling strangely numb, sweat dripping down his back, engulfed by worthlessness and unimportance, Ianto wandered around his flat aimlessly. Seeing newspapers scattered everywhere, his inner OCD took over, and Ianto stooped to pick them up. But what was he cleaning for? He never had guests…no one came to see him. Because nobody cared enough.

He realised, eyes skittering across the room to rest on his clock, he should be getting to work.

_But what for_?

To face Owen and Jack, the two people he couldn't even think about seeing right now. To be silently unwanted, unneeded by everyone? He wasn't going to put himself through that again. He couldn't.

_So what else are you gonna do_?

"Will you shut up?!" Ianto screamed, unable to listen to the whispering of voices - painfully _familiar_ voices - in his head for a second longer. He couldn't deal with them, _him, his _voice, mocking Ianto, pulsating through his veins, making him feel sick. Sick of everything.

He didn't care that he was probably going mad. He didn't even consider it.

Looking around him, begging for the voice in his head to stop, Ianto Jones' eyes fell on the door to his bathroom. The door that was open, but he was sure it hadn't been before. Walking slowly, deliberately, Ianto made his way towards the bathroom, unsure why, unsure of everything.

Ianto stepped inside his bathroom. Everything was as it should be, normal, clean...safe. But it wasn't safe, the Welshman realised as he turned. Turned to face the cabinet that was secured above his sink. The door was open. Pushing his fingers inside, Ianto sought out the thing he wanted. The thing he needed.

And as he pulled the razor out, staring at the sharp blade in awe, Ianto Jones did the one thing he hadn't done since Lisa died. Since Jack left and everything had changed. Holding the blade, listening to Jack Harkness' voice whisper in his head, Ianto did the one thing he shouldn't.

But he couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't stand being _him_. So much like Jack Harkness, so painful, so broken. Ianto had changed so much over the short period of time he had allowed his boss into his life. And he didn't like who he had become. He hated himself.

Ianto felt the blood flow from his arm, warm blood. He wasn't sure why he did it, he needed to feel pain. He deserved pain. He'd caused so much, it was only fair.

But the razor clattered to the floor as the whispering voice stopped, and Ianto snapped out of it. Stopping the flow of blood with his free hand, Ianto leant over the sink, soaking his arm in warm water. Raising his eyes to meet his own in the mirror, he couldn't help but stare at what he saw. Eyes heavy and black, skin paler than it had been in years, he barely recognised his reflection.

"What have I become?"

*

"Owen?" Jack. Of course it was Jack, Owen realised with a sigh. Couldn't the bastard just leave him alone? Maybe he was here to rub the medic's face in it, thinking he'd won. Well, he was wrong. This battle wasn't over yet.

"Yeah?" Owen replied, too tired to think of a better response.

"Have you seen Ianto today?" Jack's voice was oddly worried, confused, hurt. It was so uncharacteristic Owen did a double take. So _now_, Jack cared. After Ianto had hurt, ached, yearned for so long, Jack could just waltz back into his life? And everything would be forgotten? A few sweet words would fix everything?

Maintaining control, the younger man processed Jack's words. Hadn't Ianto showed up yet? "No..." Thinking about it in more detail, Owen started to get scared. "No, no I haven't."

"It's _midday_!" Jack exploded. "He's _never_ this late. It's not even late anymore. This? This is _past _late."

"Have you tried his mobile, landline?" Owen offered, unhelpfully. He wanted Ianto to be safe, but he didn't know what to suggest. Worry blossomed in his brain, clouding his thoughts.

"No, Owen, that thought didn't occur to me," Jack retorted, sarcastically. "Of course I have. There's no reply."

"Maybe he needs rest," Owen mused. "He works twice as hard as the rest of us. He deserves a break once in a while."

Jack ran a hand through his hair, impatiently. "He would have _called_, let me know he's okay...Doesn't he know how much I worry?!"

"Probably not," Owen sniped. "You don't make it obvious."

Jack just smiled. Owen hadn't heard the conversation Ianto and he had shared the day before. And that was probably a good thing. "Okay," Jack replied, after a while. "Thanks for your help."

Owen knew full well he hadn't been _any_ help, and that made him smile. He wanted Ianto safe, but the Welshman could look after himself. "Have you asked Tosh and Gwen?" Owen called, knowing how much it would annoy Jack.

"Of course!"

Owen stifled laughter. Man, it was fun getting Jack wound up.

Jack returned to his computer, tapping agitatedly at the keyboard. "Come on Ianto," He murmured, subconsciously. "Where are you?"


	9. Chapter 9

**As always, special love and hugs to my amazing beta, Viva Para Amar, who I'd like to wish a very happy birthday for Wednesday! Thanks so much for everything, hun xx  
**

"Jack?" Ianto's voice, soft and beautiful, the one the immortal had been waiting so long to hear.

Jack whirled round, a grin breaking across his face as he took in the sight of the Welshman. "Ianto!" Crossing the room hastily, Jack pulled Ianto into a warm embrace. Ianto flinched slightly at the touch; his arm still stung slightly, but he had bandaged it well enough. There was no way he was going to have Owen look at it. As Jack held him tighter, Ianto wondered what the hell he was playing at. After everything that had happened that morning, how could he just act like nothing was wrong?

But Ianto would be a fool to turn down comfort right now.

Ianto sighed into Jack's chest, content at last. "You rang?" Ianto paused, Jack pulling out of the embrace and holding Ianto at arms length. "42 times," Ianto couldn't help smirking. "Not including the times on the landline."

"You didn't show up!" Jack replied, indignantly. "What was I supposed to think?! You can't expect me to just not worry about you, Ianto, because I do. You see that grey hair?" Jack pointed to a clump of hair, which, to Ianto, looked exactly the same as the rest of his hair. But Ianto played along; something he'd learnt to do recently. It was normally fun. Especially with Jack involved. "You see it? That grey hair is called 'Ianto didn't show up to work today.'"

"I'm sorry for your loss," Ianto deadpanned.

"What happened?" Jack asked.

Ianto, desperately, tried to find a loophole to that question, and failed. "I...I just needed space. I just took the morning off," Ianto consulted his watch, ever professional. "It's only two 'o' clock."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't worry," Jack muttered.

"You _shouldn't_," Ianto insisted. As much as Ianto loved the thought of Jack worrying about him, as Ianto did for the immortal so often, he felt bad. He should have called. "But I'm sorry," Ianto tried to find words to describe what had happened that morning. "I needed to clear my head."

"Okay," Jack expertly hid his concern; he'd had enough practise. Especially when it came to Ianto Jones. "Alright, well, now you're here, don't you dare slack," The older man mock-threatened.

Ianto saluted, half-heartedly, leaving the office as abruptly as he had entered.

Jack stared after the Welshman, wondering when he got this protective over his young lover. If he could even call him that anymore.

*

"Owen?" Jack Harkness swept towards the medic.

Oh God, not again. "Yes, Jack?" Owen looked up, not bothering to hide his discontentment.

"I..." Jack started, not knowing how to word it so that he didn't sound cocky. He normally wouldn't have cared, but he needed a favour. "I know how bad this sounds...But I need you to have a look at Ianto." After what he'd seen and heard this morning...there was no doubting there was something wrong with Ianto. The Welshman thought Jack hadn't felt the way he'd been clearly uncomfortable with Jack touching him.

Owen raised an eyebrow. He had thought Jack didn't want him to do that anymore, have a look at Ianto, that was. "What do you mean?"

"Give him an once-over. Say it's routine or something. Tell him everyone else had theirs this morning, while he was off." Jack's eyes were wide, pleading.

Owen brushed off Jack's innocence. "What for?" Oh Christ, what had Ianto done now? Owen had seen the Welshman come in after lunch, but he'd looked fine. A little tired, slightly pale, but otherwise, fine. Wearing those figure-hugging suit trousers that drove Owen crazy.

"He's..." Jack searched for the right word. "I don't know, but something's definitely wrong with him,"

"Why don't you shag it out of him?" Owen replied, flatly, turning back to his work, which he wasn't bothering to do. "Besides, it's all you want him for."

Jack had had just about enough. What was Owen's problem? He clearly had a thing for Ianto, understandably, but he had to accept that Jack really loved Ianto, and that wouldn't go away for anything. "I care about Ianto more than you'll ever know, more than you'll ever care about anyone. I know your life consists of one night stands, and you wouldn't know love even if it punched you in the face, but don't try and ruin this for me." Feeling that wasn't quite spiteful enough, the immortal added: "Just because you're jealous." Jack turned on his heel and walked away.

But Owen hadn't finished. Worry took over his thoughts once again, and he knew it wouldn't go away. "What kind of thing is wrong with Ianto?" Damn.

Jack grinned, back still turned on the medic. "Why do you care?"

"Don't bullshit me, Harkness." Owen replied, before adding: "Of course I care. So, what's wrong?"

Jack turned to face Owen, surprised by the worried expression the younger man was wearing. It was rare to see Owen concerned. But, then again, this was Ianto they were talking about. "I don't know, he just...isn't himself. He took time off this morning to 'clear his head'" Jack quoted, unaware of how desperate he sounded. "He _never_ does that. Not ever."

Jack's expression darkened, and his voice followed suit. "I think he might have done something stupid."


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks to my fabulous beta, Viva Para Amar, happy birthday for tomorrow, hunny :)**

It was nearing four 'o' clock, and Owen was getting tired of Jack's not-so-subtle hints to get on with it. Realising that Jack might spontaneously combust if the medic kept him waiting any longer, Owen decided, as much as the idea of Jack exploding amused him, now was as good a time as any for Ianto's doctors appointment.

"Ianto?" Owen called, and Jack let out a sigh of relief. At least Owen was keeping to his side of the deal. He hadn't known whether to trust the younger man or not, but now, he knew he could.

On the other side of the Hub, Ianto Jones inwardly groaned. He'd been successfully avoiding Owen all day, for two reasons. One, his head was still all over the place. Not just in a tired, groggy way he was used to, but in a seriously messed up kind of way. A scary way.

He could only remember feeling this, Ianto tried to find words to describe it, feeling this...helpless, confused, damaged, twice before.

One, after Lisa.

Two, after Jack.

And now, after Owen.

Both times, he'd done what he did that morning. The need to feel pain had been far too strong.

Both times, also, he'd almost taken his own life.

Thankfully, that morning, he'd remained in control. After making a single cut, he'd managed to stop. He'd never been able to that before. Previously, he'd trashed his flat, and let his health and well-being go out the window. Not this time. This time, he'd be strong and _stay_ strong.

So, Owen's "check-up" had been the last thing he'd wanted. "So, let me get this straight," Ianto clarified, slowly. "You want to give me a 'once-over'. It's 'routine'?"

Owen nodded, solemnly; pleased Ianto hadn't kicked off about it. He hadn't really known what to expect. But, then, when it came to the Welshman, he never did.

Ianto almost laughed. "Yeah, right, nice one, Owen," _Please tell me he's joking; please tell me he's joking..._

"I'm not joking,"

_Fuck_.

"You keep on sniggering, I'll get the needles," Owen said, dryly.

"No way," Ianto replied, quickly. "I'm fine, you know I'm fine," Ianto was almost pleading now. Any injection would be in the – Ianto swallowed – arm. He might as well tattoo 'I'm messed up' on his forehead and be done with it.

"It's routine, Ianto," Owen told him, gently. He couldn't bring himself to be harsh with the younger man. In fact, he had to fight to keep a professional head on around Ianto. Not think about his soft hair, beautiful suits hiding an even more beautiful body...spell-binding eyes and oh-so desirable lips. He couldn't think about how it felt to kiss them and... Oh, crap. So much for not thinking about that. _God_, Owen thought, _I'm so going to need a cold shower after this_. _Is there any way I can trick him out of his shirt? Hey, Ianto, it's also routine to get naked!_

"It's just a few injections," Owen continued, struggling to form words. Ianto's fearful expression was mesmerising. _Focus, Harper, focus_. "Everyone had there's this morning, while you were off." Owen could tell Ianto wasn't convinced. "Just a couple of blood tests. You know we keep blood samples from everyone?"

Ianto nodded, cautiously, subconsciously sticking out his bottom lip in a way that nearly had Owen drooling.

"It's not that blood goes off...I don't know," Owen admitted. "But it's good to keep it fresh. Update it every so often."

"But," Ianto whined. "Is it really important?"

Owe looked scornful. "It saved Gwen's life."

"I repeat, is it really important?" Ianto asked, again. Saving Gwen's life didn't make something important. More annoying.

Owen laughed. "Yes, I'm afraid it is." Owe pulled out a shortish needle, indicating to the bed in the middle of the autopsy bay. "Now, if you wouldn't mind..."

Ianto sighed. "There's no way to stop you doing this, is there?"

"Nope," Owen replied, instantly. "If needs be, I can sedate you and do it." Owen was actually starting to warm to the idea. No one to stop roaming hands and – _stop it, Owen, stop it!_

"No!" Ianto exclaimed, quickly. At least if he was awake, he could stop Owen seeing the cuts. No doubt the medic would be furious, understandably. Ianto was furious with himself.

"No, I'll stay awake, thanks," Ianto finished.

_Damn_. "Okay," Owen grinned, falsely. "Let's do this."

*

"Okay, that's the first one done," Owe could see Ianto's eyes had been squeezed shut during it, but decided not to tease him about it, which was unlike Owen. But, then again, it was unlike Owen to fall for Ianto. But he had. Hard.

Ianto opened his eyes, blinking in the harsh light. He let out a sigh of relief, not just that it was over, but that Owen had decided to inject his left arm.

"Now, I just need your other arm..."

_Oh, shit_. Ianto leapt up. "Er, actually, I have a tonne of work to do, and I really don't think Jack would want..."

"Ianto," Owen commanded. "I am your doctor and I demand to see your arm."

Ianto paused. He rolled his sleeve up a centre meter, revealing milky white, uncut wrist.

"Ianto," Owen's voice was scarily stern. "I need to see your arm."

Ianto could see there was no way out of this one. Slowly, the Welshman rolled his sleeve up further.

Owen's eyes were met by a brilliant white bandage, stained red in places were the blood from the wound had seeped through, Owen realised with a gasp. Jack had been right. Bastard.

"Ianto," Owen struggled to keep his voice calm. Speaking through his teeth, he continued: "Take off the bandage."

Ianto shook his head immediately.

"If you don't," Owen threatened. "I will call Jack, and he will hold you down while I take the bandage off. Your choice," He didn't want to have to resort to that, Owen knew Ianto wouldn't want Jack involved. But Owen also knew this was serious. Very serious.

Ianto's expression was horrified. Quickly, he pulled the bandage away, revealing a blood-covered, gaping wound scarring his forearm.

"Ianto," Owen's voice was very quiet. "I think you need to explain to me _exactly_ what happened this morning."


	11. Chapter 11

**Dedication: As always, my wonderful beta, Viva Para Amar, who keeps me going when my muse decides to take an extra-long holiday...:D**

__

Ianto's own expression was horrified. Quickly, he pulled the bandage away, revealing a blood-covered, gaping wound scarring his forearm.

"_Ianto," Owen's voice was very quiet. "I think you need to explain to me exactly what happened this morning."_

But Ianto didn't explain. He just stood there, looking terrified.

Owe contemplated calling Jack, but knew that would cause more harm than good. Jack would yell and stamp and scream the place down. A dramatic fit was not what neither Owen nor Ianto needed right now. Jack may claim to love Ianto, and think he knows what's best for him, but he doesn't. Not now.

Owen needed the truth.

"Ianto, explain," Owen was nearly begging now. "Please." Not wanting an answer, but silently praying for one that didn't match his thoughts, he persisted. "I need to know why,"

Running now would be stupid. Ianto couldn't run away from Torchwood, because they'd catch him eventually. They caught everyone eventually. Everyone who'd had Torchwood touch their worlds, even just for a minute, was caught.

Looking around the medical bay in helpless desperation, Ianto knew there was no way out. If he didn't explain now, Owen would tell Jack, and Jack would...well, Ianto didn't want to think about what Jack would do if he knew.

So Ianto explained. His voice was very quiet, but Owen heard. But he wished, by the end of it, he hadn't. With every tragic word Ianto spoke, Owen's expression grew more… more _devastated,_ more ashamed of Ianto; Owen had had more faith in him than that. But Owen had been wrong. He'd forgotten Ianto was just a kid. The youngest of the bunch, and the most vulnerable.

Unable to look up at the medic, for fear of what he might find written across Owen's face, Ianto talked to the floor, struggling to keep talking. It sounded so horrific. When he had finished, Ianto forced himself to look at Owen, forcing his face to stay blank.

"So," Owen replied, in a voice equally as calm and solemn as Ianto's had been. His mind was all over the place; he didn't know what to think anymore. "You thought..." His throat was so dry it was hard to speak. "You thought doing _this_ to yourself...you...you thought it would _help_?"

"I wasn't looking for help," Ianto admitted, desperate for Owen to understand. The medic had shown recently that he had been one of the only ones of the team who did understand Ianto, and the Welshman knew he couldn't let Owen down. He had to make him see his side. "I wanted to hurt, I wanted the pain," Desperation and self-pity overtook Ianto, and he added, in an almost threatening voice: "And, do you know what?" Owen already knew he didn't want to hear this. "I wanted to _die_."

Ianto's face was so close to Owen's; the medic could feel Ianto's breath on his cheek. But it was wrong. Ianto's words were so vile, so hideous. So wrong. "You don't mean that," Owen said, willing himself to believe it more than anything.

Ianto just stared Owen out, eyes very big, very wide… and so very black. Eyes that had once been the window to the Welshman's soul, now were so guarded Owen could see nothing but darkness.

"You can't..." Owen was desperately tugging at strings, trying to make Ianto take back what he'd just said. But he wouldn't. It wouldn't go away. The words were buzzing around the medical bay like a swarm of angry wasps, stinging and stinging.

"I don't know, Owen," Ianto's voice was so helpless, his expression matching. "I don't know what to think anymore."

"Ianto, mate, you need help," Owen's voice was quick, light, but Ianto didn't miss the hint of fear in it. What did Owen have to be scared of? Did he think Ianto was a freak now? Was he scared _of_ Ianto? The Welshman felt like crying.

"No way," Ianto refused point blank. Looking Owen straight in the eyes, Owen saw the determination, the need to put things right. The so cleverly hidden fear of who he'd become.

"You need to let someone help you," Owen said, hastily retying the bandage around Ianto's forearm.

"What, lock me up in a loony bin?" Ianto exploded, pulling away from Owen, ignoring the throbbing in his arm. "No chance," Ianto's eyes were wild, and it scared the hell out of Owen. "There's _no way_."

Jack had come running at the sound of Ianto's shouting, Gwen and Tosh in close pursuit. Ianto looked up at the three of them in horror. Were they all here to stare at the freak?

Owen waved them to back away, knowing Ianto needed space. Gwen and Tosh obliged, stepping away from the railings, but Jack did the opposite of what he was asked - as per normal - and sprinted down the steps, coming to a halt at Ianto's side.

"Ianto, what the hell is going on?" He asked.

"What do you care?" Ianto asked, darkly.

Jack did a double take, shocked by Ianto's attitude; what was up with him? Had he done something wrong? Or maybe he'd been right, though he'd prayed he wasn't. Maybe Ianto really had done something stupid. Knowing he wouldn't get any sense out of the Welshman, Jack turned to Owen. "Owen, what's the matter?"

The medic looked unable to form words, his face was paler than normal, and he was staring at Ianto's arm. Jack followed his gaze, and his eyes rested on the bloody bandage tied on Ianto's forearm. _What the..._

"Oh my God," Gwen breathed, unhelpfully.

Ianto was looking at Owen, his blue eyes pleading. Owen fought the urge to grab Ianto and run, just run. Away from Torchwood, away from all of this. Everything that stood in their way. Before, he might have done just that. But knowing what Ianto had done put a completely different light on the situation. Owen still felt everything he always had for Ianto, but now, he was scared.

"I..." The medic started.

"Owen, please," Ianto begged. "Don't."

"Okay, then, Ianto, you tell me," Jack instructed. "Tell me what is going on."

"I can't," Ianto whispered.

"He cut himself," Owen suddenly said. The words were so simple that it took a while for their true meaning to sink in.

But Jack knew exactly what he meant.

"You. Did. What." Words slow and deliberate, and that made it ten times harder for Ianto to answer. The obvious disgust in Jack's voice made Ianto feel so ashamed of himself, but at the same time, so angry. Maybe if Jack had _helped_ him he wouldn't be in this mess!

"I..." Ianto couldn't explain it. "I'm sorry,"

"Sorry doesn't talk back what you did, Ianto," Rage forming a sinking pit in the immortal's stomach, Jack added, before he could think: "I thought you knew that better than anyone."

Ianto, limbs still with shock, couldn't believe what he'd just heard. How could Jack throw this back in his face like this? "I was an idiot to ever think I could trust you," His voice was so cold, so deadly, that Jack took a step back.

Owen, as well as Ianto, was shocked Jack could be that harsh, and wasn't surprised by Ianto's reaction. The immortal really was a pillock sometimes. How could Jack be so cruel? Didn't he know how vulnerable Ianto was? If Owen yelling at him had made Ianto cut himself, what the hell would _Jack_ yelling at Ianto do to the Welshman? Maybe he'd forgotten how it felt so be human, after so many years of trying not to care, maybe he'd lost track of how hurting felt, how scared and lost some people can be.

Realising what he'd said, Jack quickly backtracked. "Ianto, I didn't mean..."

But it was too late, Ianto was already pushing past Jack, up the stairs, past Gwen and Tosh, staring dumbfounded at the Welshman.

Realising he was too late, Jack sighed, running up the stairs after his lover. What Jack didn't notice, was that Owen had also raced up to meet him, and stopped him in his tracks.

"He'll never listen to you now," Owen warned, pulling on his coat. "You've fucked up royally today, Harkness."

The door slammed as Ianto left, and Owen sprinted after him.

*

The most obvious place to look was Ianto's flat, and Owen knew it. Ianto had given the medic a spare key as soon as they had become close, and that had really touched Owen. Ianto trusting him so completely so quickly. How could he have let him down like he just had, back at the Hub? Owen slotted it into the door, turning it quickly and letting himself in. He tried to calm the butterfly of nerves shooting around in his stomach, afraid of what might be waiting for him on the other side of the door.

Taking in the scary-clean surroundings, spotless carpet, pristine kitchen and neatly arranged newspapers lining the coffee table, Owen let out a sigh of relief as he spotted Ianto, lying on the sofa, fast asleep.

Realisation sunk in, and Owen gasped, running to the Welshman's side and checking for a pulse, frantically. _Please, please, please_…and Owen found his pulse. _Thank God_.

Owen let his fingers tickle Ianto's cheek, letting his eyes wash over the angelic form that was his colleague. Owen had watched Ianto sleep before, and it was a privilege. That was another thing Owen envied about Jack. Not just sharing his life and bed with Ianto, but seeing him the way other people didn't.

Noticing Ianto didn't look very comfortable, Owen decided to move him. The older man wasn't surprised at Ianto's practically non-existent weight as he picked him up, and carried him through to the bedroom. Pulling back the covers with his foot, something he was sure Ianto wouldn't approve of, Owen settled Ianto in his bed.

Placing a gentle kiss on the younger man's lips, Owen was thankful Ianto didn't wake up.

He tried to ignore the electricity that sparked in his stomach. It scared the hell out of him.

*

It was pitch black when Ianto woke up. Rolling over, he saw a note pinned to the pillow next to him, with a packet of pills cello taped to it.

He recognised Owen's handwriting instantly.

_Take these. It'll stop it hurting._

But Ianto knew, deep down, it would never stop hurting. Not for him.


	12. Chapter 12

**A massive thanks to my amazing beta, Viva Para Amar, for everything she's done for me :) I appreciate it SO much :D xxxx**

Jack paced up and down his office, thoughts whirling, stomach churning, heart thudding about a metre outside his chest. He was stuck with a sudden, overwhelming urge to flee the Hub, leave it all behind and go be with the man he loved. He needed Ianto, losing him had hurt him so much he'd realised just how deep his feelings for the younger man ran. Being completely and irreversibly in love with Ianto was not what Jack had been expecting. But it was perfect all the same.

But Jack knew Ianto wouldn't want to see him now, probably not for a long time coming. Jack had spited him in his lover's time of need. What kind of _person_ did that? Ianto would have never done that to Jack, because he loved him. _This relationship needed to stop working one way_, Jack thought, bitterly. Stop Ianto doing all the running.

Now he would be running away.

And it would serve Jack right. It hurt, but Ianto would be right to push Jack away. Jack deserved to hurt like he had hurt so may others. The immortal knew there was only one person Ianto would talk to now. Jack's gaze fell on Owen as the medic re-entered the Hub. His eyes were red-rimmed, but otherwise, he looked fine. Maybe Ianto had been really abusive. Jack pouted. He thought Ianto saved his abusive side for those long, dark nights in the Hub.

Wait, this was _Ianto_. Sweet, gentle, innocent Ianto.

_Who cut himself_, Jack's subconscious reminded him, but Jack shook off that thought. The thought of it made Jack's skin crawl. Ianto hurting himself...it made him want to throw up.

_Oh my God,_ the immortal thought, suddenly. What if Ianto had quit? Realising he needed to talk to Owen about this, Jack sighed, deeply. He'd messed up, he knew that, but he had no doubt Owen would have great pleasure in reminding him.

Jack left his office, swallowed his pride, and made his way over to the medical bay...

*

Owen hadn't been able to make it back to the Hub straight away. He'd had to sit in his car for a good two hours; he'd been crying so much it would have been dangerous to drive. He hadn't realised how late it had gotten, but even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.

Consumed by loss and betrayal and hurt, Owen had been drowning in his own self-pity. He'd let what had happen to Ianto completely go to his head; he knew Ianto would be fine, but that didn't stop him worrying.

And it was about 10 minutes into sitting in his car, sobbing, that Owen realised he cared about Ianto more than he had ever intended to, ever wanted to. And that, alone, was going to lead him into deep trouble someday, whether it was with Jack, or Ianto, or something far worse. But Owen had learned, recently, that there was little worse than a jealous, angry Jack. Possibly a sex-deprived Jack, but that was about it.

Thankfully, Owen had only had to deal with a sex-less Jack once before, and that was a couple of months ago, after Beth and those damned sleeper agents, and Ianto had been attacked by a Weevil, leaving him with multiple injuries and a couple of fractured ribs. He'd been on desk duty for a few weeks, and was unable to engage in any physical activity, such as shagging the boss. That hadn't pleased Jack, and the immortal had been near enough unbearable. By the end of it, Gwen and Tosh were begging Ianto to heal quicker. He'd barely been able to make coffee, and maybe that had put an even worse light on the situation. It was needless to say Ianto's coffee was beyond addictive. Instant was a no-go.

Owen couldn't remember a time where he'd felt this hopeless. Maybe after Dianne...was it weird that this felt _worse_?

It was whilst distracting himself with thoughts of Dianne that Owen realised he could completely understand Ianto's self-harming. After Dianne had left, Owen had gone and got mauled by a Weevil, and the pain had felt good.

Maybe that's how Ianto felt?

No one had understood why Owen had claimed he didn't want saving from the Weevil cage...but maybe Ianto did. How could Owen have been so _hypocritical_? Being hurt, feeling the pain run through his body every time he moved had been so _satisfying_; it had been Owen's way of getting over Dianne. Had this been Ianto's way of getting over Jack...or maybe even Owen himself?

Jack may have screwed up, but Owen had failed his friend. Maybe Ianto didn't need a lover, or even a quick shag... Maybe he just needed a friend. And Owen was willing to be that friend for as long as it was going to take. Doubtless Jack would have his problems with this, but Owen didn't care.

So, Jack searching the medic out and asking him to go see Ianto again had more than surprised Owen.

"Are you sure, Jack?" Owen asked, wondering why Jack wasn't going to see Ianto himself. This was more than partly his fault, after all.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, sighing melodramatically. "Ianto's never going to want to talk to me now," He reminded Owen.

Owen wasn't surprised to see Jack's face had fallen a mile; his blue eyes were full of tears, so usually shining and full of life now looked dead. "Can you blame him?"

"No," Jack admitted. "I was out of order, I know that. And I want to make things right, but I can't see Ianto co-operating anytime soon. So, please... Owen, you're the only one who Ianto will listen to," Jack winced as he said that, he knew it was true, but that didn't make it any less painful to admit.

Owen looked a little disbelieving. "You really believe that?"

Jack looked pained. "As much as I don't want to, I do," There was a pregnant pause, but Owen didn't say anything, clearly lost in thoughts, probably about Ianto, so Jack continued. "So, take the morning off tomorrow, and go see him," Jack's eyes turned wide and pleading. "Please,"

Owen was powerless to say otherwise. He had been looking for an excuse to go back to Ianto's flat, anyway...

*

It was nine by the time Owen got round to Ianto's. Letting himself in again, he paused in the hallway. Part of him was desperate to see the Welshman, but the other was scared of what he might find.

Owen could hear no voices, no footsteps, no nothing. Wandering through the small apartment, he found Ianto was still asleep, covers pulled right up to his chin, a look of bliss covering his face. Smiling at the sweet, sleeping form, Owen made to leave the room.

And that's when he heard Ianto call out. Turning his head back, he saw Ianto was still curled up, but he was talking. And what he was saying made Owen's blood turn cold.

"Jack? Jack?" Ianto's soft Welsh accent caressed the words gently. "Jack, help me...Please, Jack."

Owen's stomach lurched, and the small ache around his heart, filled with loneliness and despair, grew a little larger.

"Jack?" Ianto was still calling, but Owen barely noticed. He fought the urge to cry, something he didn't have to do often. Owen rarely showed emotion, but this was different. Ianto was different, and Owen didn't care that he was acting like a teenage girl. Ianto made Owen feel things he'd never felt before, not ever, and never wanted to feel again.

Owen felt as if Ianto had betrayed him, which was stupid, seeing as Ianto had never been his, not properly. Owen had always known Jack had come first. But it hurt. It hurt like hell.

Owen moved to sit down on the bed, sensing Ianto's distress. He was desperate to offer the younger man some comfort. Pulling back the covers, he settled beside Ianto, wrapping an arm round him.

"It's okay," Owen whispered. "I'm here,"

"Jack?" Ianto mumbled, sleep clouding his voice.

Tears dripped down Owen's face. "I'm here," He repeated. "I'm not going to leave you," He pressed a kiss to Ianto's forehead, smiling as the Welshman moved closer to him. "I'll never leave you."

"I love you," Ianto whispered, before his body sagged, and sleep overtook him once more.

"I know," Owen murmured, tears falling relentlessly down his face.


	13. Chapter 13

**As always, special thanks to my AMAZING beta, Viva Para Amar, I owe you my life, many times over :)**

"Oi, Tosh," Gwen Cooper's voice came across the Hub to where Toshiko Sato was sat at her desk, idly tapping at her keyboard as she tried to programme a new piece of software. She hadn't been able to concentrate, and was considering taking a long lunch. Jack had shut himself away in his office; both Owen and Ianto hadn't shown up yet.

But Tosh hadn't really expected Ianto to show up. She'd been shocked, disgusted, but most of all concerned by what she'd seen. Tosh had had her doubts that Jack treated Ianto right, but she never thought the Welshman would be driven to do _that_. The unthinkable.

You needed to stay strong in Torchwood. It was the only way to get by without loosing it, or loosing each other.

Tosh swivelled in her chair to face Gwen, who was scampering across the Hub towards her, rather resembling an excited puppy. Tosh stopped herself before she thought anything worse. She tried to like Gwen, she really did. They were a team, and she supposed everyone else but Ianto, who knew otherwise, thought they got on well because they were women. Tosh _had_ tried, in the beginning. But then that man-stealing, home-wrecking bitch had slept with Owen, and was constantly mooning over Jack when she had what Toshiko had always wanted.

A love, a life. A chance.

And she tried to steal all of that from her best friend, Ianto. But, still, Tosh tried to like her. Again, they were a team. Stand together and all that. But since Jack had left and Gwen had marched around like she was in charge, Tosh couldn't help that little stab of spite that bit at her heart every time Toshiko was faced with Gwen. So yeah, she tried to like Gwen. She just rarely succeeded.

"How can I help you?" The tech expert asked politely, pulling off her glasses as Gwen got closer.

Gwen grabbed the nearest chair, slid it towards Toshiko and settled herself into it. "Well," Gwen flicked her hair back, leaning forwards, eyes bright. "Guesswhere Owen is?"

Tosh was a bit taken aback by this. Wasn't Gwen the Owen-expert? Sure Tosh hung on his every word, desperate to know everything there was to know about the young medic, but Gwen was the one who actually got answers. "Er..." Tosh thought about it. "A pub? A club?" Tosh guessed. "Some bint's bed?" The thought made her want to be sick, but she knew it was realistic for Owen.

"C'mon Tosh!" Gwen prompted, exasperated. "You're the smart one around here."

Well, Tosh couldn't really argue with that. "I don't know, Gwen," She sighed. "But...oh my God, let me guess...you're about to tell me?!" She faked surprise. Gwen looked so excited; Tosh had to hide her laughter. Gwen really was dense sometimes. Well...mostly all the time.

"You know it!" Gwen grinned, something she should really stop doing, Tosh noted. Made her look far too scary. "He's at _Ianto's_!"

Tosh felt like she'd been kicked in the gut, and covered in iced water. "What?"

"He's round _Ianto's_!" Gwen replied, excitedly. "Can you believe it?!"

"Not really," Tosh muttered. She thought Ianto couldn't stand Owen. Although...they had looked closer recently, and they were always sharing jobs, laughs and even sometimes just looks. Tosh didn't feel threatened by this...Owen wasn't gay. Was he? "Look, Gwen, are you sure?"

"Positive," Gwen was quite pleased with herself. A little bit of CCTV-surveying had landed her a load of gossip. "Do you think they're shagging?" She asked, matter-of-factly.

Tosh gasped. Okay, maybe he was. Wait...there had been Gwen, Dianne...her, briefly. "No. Way."

"You think?" Gwen considered this. "Maybe you're right...but, c'mon, Tosh, you must have seen those looks they share, the way Jack looks like he constantly wants to punch Owen nowadays. Though, I can't really blame him," Gwen laughed at her own joke. Tosh thought it best not to remind her how pathetic that was. "It's a bit off, don't you think? What with Jack and Ianto at it every three seconds. I feel sorry for Jack, personally."

"We all know how you feel about Jack," Tosh replied, curtly, before she could stop herself.

Gwen wasn't fazed by this, and continued, in her oh-so dignified way: "What do you mean?"

Tosh sighed. Great, the rest of the morning spent telling Gwen how sad and unrealistic she was by pretending Jack was in love with her. Oh, deep joy. "Well, it doesn't really stop you, does it?"

Gwen repeated: "What do you mean?"

"Jack and Ianto being in a relationship doesn't stop you making eyes at Jack, and, Gwen, to be honest –" Tosh replied, heatedly.

Gwen cut her off mid-sentence, snorting. "_Jack_? _Ianto_? In a _relationship_?" She laughed. "You're _joking_!"

"No," Tosh was a bit surprised by Gwen's reaction. How could she be so stupid, so unobservant? Maybe when things weren't about her she just didn't take them in. "They are. They're in love,"

"Yeah, right, good one, Tosh," Gwen carried on laughing.

"I'm not joking," Tosh assured her. "They are. Jack told Ianto he loved him,"

"How do you know?" Gwen asked, eyes narrowed.

"CCTV is an amazing thing," Tosh reminded her.

"How do you know you didn't just..." Gwen was desperately trying to think of something, anything, which could mean it wasn't true. Jack was in love with _her_, he'd always acted like it was _her_, not Ianto. Jack wanted to be with her...didn't he? He was just waiting for the right time...wasn't he? Everyone knew, everyone knew Jack loved her. Of course he did. Why else would he have hired her? Gwen could tell, tell it from her every look and the way he looked when he saw Gwen kissing Rhys. Maybe he'd just been thinking of Ianto...No, _no_, he loved Gwen, he _loved_ her. "Hear it wrong?"

Her suggestion was so pathetic Tosh had to stop herself laughing. "I didn't," Tosh said. "I know I didn't."

"He probably didn't even _mean_ it," Gwen replied, indignantly. "Anything to keep Ianto happy. A promise here, a shag there...it works, doesn't it?" Gwen was forcing the point so hard, she had to believe it was true, she had to... She couldn't face the fact that it was anyone but her for Jack. Her heart was on the verge of breaking, throat so dry it was hard to speak. But what would she say? She couldn't just give up, she couldn't let Ianto, Tosh, she couldn't let them win.

Tosh was outraged. Did Gwen really think that was all Jack and Ianto were? "You're wrong, Gwen, you know you're wrong. Just because you like to live in your own little fantasy world where Jack loves you. He doesn't, and you know it. You're just too proud to admit that Jack loves Ianto. Can you blame him? Ianto's amazing, he's ten times better than you'll _ever_ be," Tosh had gotten so caught up in the argument she hadn't really realised what she'd said. But the outraged expression on Gwen's face gave her a good enough idea.

She didn't regret it, though. Some things just needed to be said. Jack never would, but Gwen _needed_ to know.

Gwen tried to mask her hurt with fury. "How _dare_ you? I love Rhys!" It was true, she did. She loved him, he was her rock. But she didn't love him enough to shut up the little "what if..." that kept playing and replaying in the back of her mind.

"Oh yeah," Tosh challenged. "You love Rhys so much you were all too willing to jump into bed with Owen." Someone had to say it, Tosh reasoned with herself. She wasn't proud of what she'd just said, but it had to be said.

And that's when Gwen slapped Toshiko across the face. Shocked and furious, Toshiko fought back, knocking Gwen off of her chair. They landed on the floor with a thud, kicking and slapping and making an awful lot of noise.

In his office, Jack Harkness heard banging, thumping and a few un-feminine grunts. Intrigued, he ventured out of his office to investigate. He'd expected maybe some alien break-in, or maybe a piece of tech gone wrong.

What he hadn't been expecting was to find his two female employees rolling around on the floor, fighting. He ran down the stairs, amused and concerned all at the same time. Tosh was so sweet, innocent, gentle..._so much like Ianto - shut up, shut up..._Gwen must have really pissed her off.

"Ladies!" Jack yelled, pulling them apart. "Calm _down_!" He sat Tosh down on her desk, Gwen on a chair. They both started to smooth their clothes and tidy their hair, glaring at one another. "What the _hell_ happened?!"

Both Gwen and Tosh started talking at the same time, much like school children.

"Wait a second!" Knowing he'd get a much fairer answer from Tosh, Jack turned to the tech expert. "Tosh. What happened?"

Throwing a smug smirk at Gwen, much to Jack's surprise, Tosh started to explain. Jack grew more amused, more surprised, more admiring of Tosh and more ashamed of Gwen with every word.

When she'd finished, Jack didn't really know what to say. Sensing his confusion, Tosh added: "But it's true, Jack, isn't it? You and Ianto aren't just sex. Tell her, Jack!" She pointed at Gwen. "You love _Ianto_, don't you? Not Gwen. Tell her! You don't love her, do you? You love _Ianto_."

What the hell? Jack thought. He didn't need to be told he loved Ianto, of course he did. How could Gwen think Jack was in love with her? Sure, there'd been an attraction at first, before things had gotten serious with Ianto. First he'd just brought Gwen in to make Ianto _jealous_; he thought it would be a laugh. Things had gotten way out of hand, and now everyone seemed to think Jack was in love with Gwen, which was ridiculous.

Not knowing what the right thing to say to either woman was, Jack looked between his two colleagues, helplessly.

The Hub door suddenly rolled back, revealing a dishevelled, severely upset and seemingly angry Owen. His eyes were dark, his clothes crumpled. He resembled the man he had become when Dianne had left, right down to the red-rimmed eyes.

"Harkness," His voice matched his complexion. "You and I need to talk. _Now_."


	14. Chapter 14

**Millions of hugs and tuns of love to my amazing beta, Viva Para Amar, for being absolutely FANTASTIC :D xxx**

Jack Harkness raised his eyebrows at the shocked women as he followed Owen into his office. The medic slammed the door shut behind them, unable to keep his emotions under control. He blinked back yet more tears as he turned to face Jack, who was perched on the end of his desk, looking sheepish. Owen saw right through it. Like Jack couldn't guess what was coming. He must have been expecting this, sooner or later.

Owen wasn't quite sure why he hadn't done this before. Put the big boss back in his box. Could be fun. Owen didn't realise his face had contorted into a menacing snarl; he'd been picturing the look on Jack's face after he'd let this one rip, and found it quite amusing.

Jack, however, found this particularly _not _amusing. He couldn't understand Owen's _problem_. Surely he'd known that he and Ianto had no chance, no future. Not that Jack himself could offer the Welshman anything better, except for love, care, protection. He'd never stop giving those things to Ianto.

"Er, Owen, what exactly is this about?" Jack asked, more than a little uncomfortable with the situation he had been placed in. Owen's feelings for Ianto were apparent, so spending some quality time with Ianto's partner, lover, whatever, could hardly be top of Owen's to-do list.

"I...you have to..." Owen started, not sure how to word it. _You're a prick who puts Ianto through hell, shame he's still in love with you_? Possibly. "You have to know...I mean, he...I...You..."

And it was at that moment that the computers started going crazy, the rift alarm started sounding uncontrollably, and the phones started ringing.

*

Jack slid into drivers seat of the SUV, his team following. As he settled himself in the seat, he thanked whatever alien - person from Mars or little green blobby thing, he didn't care - had saved him from a confrontation with Owen. Whatever it was, Jack owed them one of his many lives, probably several times over. That was, most likely, what a fight with Owen would have cost him.

Tosh grabbed shotgun position before Gwen could, earning herself an evil-eyed glare and a few muttered insults. Not that Tosh cared. Gwen had heard, seen, been shown everything she needed to that morning. Jack may not have answered, but the look on his face had made it plain. Gwen was never going to be more than a colleague to him.

Owen sat in the backseat next to Gwen, grumbling to himself. He'd wanted– no, _needed_ – to show Jack, to tell him, once and for all. Someone had to, and Owen had seized that chance with both hands. No one, except Ianto and of course Jack, had the power to make someone feel about three inches tall quite like Owen did. It was an art he had learnt to perfect, dealing with Torchwood and big bosses and stroppy colleagues.

Talking of stroppy colleagues, what was Gwen giving Tosh daggers for? They'd looked a little...messy when Owen had come in, but he'd barely spared that a second thought. He'd only wanted to get in, give Jack what for, and get out. Preferably to be with Ianto, but he doubted he would get that lucky. Jack would probably get there before him. Use some teleporting device or technology or something. Really romantic, that was.

"So," Owen hadn't realised Tosh was talking. "We have..." Tosh's face lit up, and Jack passed her an inquisitive look. Even Gwen had stopped cursing and started to look interested. Owen, quite frankly, couldn't bring himself to care. "A Blowfish!"

Jack groaned, Gwen giggled in spite of herself. "Just like old times!" Gwen exclaimed.

"Except we don't have Ianto," Owen said, darkly. Everyone suddenly went quiet.

Jack glared over his shoulder at the medic. "We could go get him..." The immortal offered, suddenly excited by the thought of seeing Ianto again.

"No," Owen replied, continuing to stare out the window, in a failing attempt to look off-hand. "I don't think he wants to see anyone."

"Great, thanks for that conversation-killer, Harper," Jack muttered. Ianto may not want to see anyone, but it wasn't up to Owen to make that judgement. Jack inwardly cursed. He knew it was a mistake asking Owen to go see Ianto again. It'd caused nothing but trouble.

*

Jack bust through the door, in a way, really, only Captain Jack Harkness could. Full kick-ass mode. He was working on the basis that the sooner he got out of here, the sooner he could go see Ianto. He'd given up on the whole Ianto-needs-space theory, and was now desperate to see his lover. A day without Ianto was a day too long.

The Blowfish wasn't hard to locate. Its crimson head and gills weren't exactly subtle. Jack sighed as he took in its hands, which were clutching a bag, clearly jammed full of possessions. Burglary was _so_ unoriginal. No people in, thank God. No screaming, and best of all, no Retcon.

His team burst in behind him, guns pointed and at the ready. "Oh God, not another thief," Owen groaned.

"Right," Jack's voice was bored, and the Blowfish looked anything but threatened. "You have approximately three seconds to drop the bag. Otherwise," Jack pulled his revolver, grinning satisfactorily as it clicked, ready to shoot at a seconds notice. _Now_ the Blowfish looked scared. "I'll blow a hole in your brain...if you have one..." Jack paused, thought blossoming in his mind. "Hmm, anyway," Clearing his throat, he continued: "The choice is yours, really."

"How generous," The Blowfish sneered, but obliged, dropping the bag. Any fool could see how deadly serious Jack was.

"Good choice," Jack smiled, humourlessly. "Vaults, here we come."

Clearly not understanding, the Blowfish just looked between Jack and the team, taking it all in. Jack fished in his pockets, eventually salvaging a pair of handcuffs. He chucked them at Owen with a little more force than was nessacery, who scowled, but moved towards the fish, preparing to tie him up.

"What the _hell_ did you have those in there for?" Gwen hissed, annoyance clear on her face. She knew exactly what Jack would use them for.

Jack grinned, though the thoughts of what he _had_ been intending to use them for saddened him. He doubted Ianto would feel up for it anytime soon. And he'd planned it so carefully...exercising regularly for weeks to make sure he'd fit in the –

Gwen tapped her foot, impatiently, cutting off Jack's train of thought. Sensing she was after an answer, Jack replied, with a half-hearted smile: "Always prepared, me."

Tosh giggled, on the same wavelength as Jack, whereas Gwen clearly hadn't caught up yet. That made a change.

Sensing Tosh and Gwen might be getting ready for another bitch fight, as soon as Gwen's brain served its purpose and delivered her with the right thought to lead her to Jack's real reasoning, the immortal moved to help Owen.

Jack wasn't surprised that the medic turned his back on the older man, clearly not comfortable with even being in the same space as him. "Owen," Jack hissed, pulling the handcuffs into place on the un-struggling Blowfish. Clearly another druggie then, out of his head. Oh well, it made it easier when they didn't struggle. "Will you _stop_ being so childish?"

Owen snorted, disbelievingly. "Yeah, right, I'm the immature one."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Owen smirked, trying and failing to close the handcuffs, and trap the Blowfish. "Wouldn't you like to know?" He teased, clearly pleased with having a one-up on Jack.

"Evidentially, I did ask the question," Jack was tired of games, and just for once, he wanted a straight answer. He decided to change the subject, sensing Owen wasn't willing to continue on the current one. "So, what was up this morning? Did you go see Ianto?"

Jack wasn't thick, however many jokes Owen made that said otherwise, and knew that Owen's state that morning must have had something to do with his trip to visit the Welshman. What could Ianto have done to put Owen in _this_ bad of a mood?

"Yes," Owen replied, stiffly, still trying to secure the handcuffs.

"Let me," Jack tried to yank the restraints away from Owen, but the medic hung on.

"I can do it," He insisted.

"Well, clearly you can't," Jack huffed, but let go. _Why_ was Owen being like this?

Owen didn't answer, just muttered under his breath. Jack realised, for the first time, that the Blowfish had been witness to this whole mini-argument, and was looking somewhat bewildered. Jack didn't care, it was kind of funny.

"C'mon, Owen, what did Ianto say?" Jack pressed, his voice turning dark, serious.

Sensing the change in atmosphere and emotion, it was clear in the way Jack's voice had suddenly turned threatening; Owen shifted, uncomfortably, unwilling to admit to how Ianto had acted. "I'd rather not say,"

"Well, I'd rather you did."

Owen sighed. He knew he couldn't put it off any longer. As much as it hurt, he had to face up to the truth. "He chose you, okay?"

Jack looked bewildered. "What?"

"He chose you. He wants to be with you," Owen had been right, the words did hurt. How had Ianto done this to him, manipulated his brain and his heart into feeling things they had never felt before.

Jack tried to hide his smile of relief. "Owen, I..."

Owen didn't want sympathy, especially not from Jack Harkness. "No, alright, just no!" He near yelled.

The Blowfish was looking more scared than ever. Jack ignored it. "Owen, please, you..."

"No!" Owen was shouting now, all thoughts of staying calm and controlled gone. Jack _had_ to hear this. He may have won, but he hadn't won for the right reasons, and Owen wouldn't rest until both Ianto and Jack saw that. "You _bastard_! You put the man through _hell_, and do you know the worst part? He's still in fucking love with you!"

"Ladies?" Gwen called, unhelpfully.

"_Not _now, Gwen," Jack replied, squaring up to Owen.

"Just thought you'd like to know...the Blowfish got away." Gwen paused when neither of them seemed to care. "Oh, and," She continued, "Ianto's here."


	15. Chapter 15

**Massive thanks and gratious cyber-hugs to my amazing beta, Viva Para Amar, you really are awesome, but I think you know that :) xx  
**

"_Just thought you'd like to know...the Blowfish got away." Gwen paused when neither of them seemed to care. "Oh, and," She continued, "Ianto's here."_

"_What_?!" Both Jack and Owen exclaimed at the same time. Again, in unison, they turned to glare at each other.

Gwen nodded, smiling. "He just text me, he picked up the signal on his laptop, wanted to come back to work. So I said to meet us here, and his car's just drawn up." Gwen pointed through a small, dusty window out onto the street, where Jack and Owen's gaze both landed on Ianto's car, with a fully suited Welshman stepping out of it. Jack couldn't help but take in the, quite frankly, heavenly rear view as Ianto turned to lock his car. Jack shook his head, determinedly. He needed to stop thinking of Ianto as a body. He was a person, and he was damned important. More important than any of the immortal's previous picked-up part-time shags, even those that had turned into more, as Ianto had proved to. But Ianto was different, completely different. He was more than all of the past; he was Jack's future. Maybe.

Ianto was pulling the door open. That certainly jerked a reaction. Jack and Owen stopped glaring at each other, Owen's fist unclenched and he took a step back, straightening his shirt. Jack mirrored his actions, running a hand through his hair.

The older man beat Owen out of the door, Gwen following. As Owen made to leave, Tosh grabbed onto his arm. Her fingernails dug into his skin, not in a menacing way, but firm and almost caring...comforting. Owen was surprised by his reaction to this. He thought...he'd almost started to think of himself as gay recently. His feelings for Ianto had been building up over a long time, ever since Jack had left and Ianto had been destroyed, Owen had found himself drawn to the Welshman, intent to put that smile back on Ianto's face that he missed so much.

But there had always been Tosh. It was no secret of how she felt about Owen, it was damned obvious. Owen felt guilty denying her what she craved from him, love and care. But he couldn't...not now, not after everything Ianto had made him feel.

"Owen," Tosh's voice was gentle, concerned. It made Owen want to weep. Someone _cared_, cared about him. He wasn't just a big mouth and a pain in the arse, Tosh treated him like a _person_, and she genuinely cared for him. That kind of affection was hard to find these days. Especially from the people you crave it from most.

Tosh was still speaking, Owen blissfully unaware, lost in thought, mostly about Ianto. It was like his brain was tattooed with his name, every blossom of thought was stained with Ianto, his face, his voice. Everything about him was perfect, and just made Owen want him all the more.

Want something he couldn't, shouldn't, wouldn't have.

"Owen...Look, I know there's something going on," Tosh probed, softly. She wanted to get the bottom of this. She could see how affected Owen was by Ianto's revelation, and although she still didn't know what had triggered it, she could only trace the problem back to Jack. Or Owen...or both.

"And I just thought..." Tosh sighed; Owen looked at her for the first time. Her eyes were gently guarded, the way they always were, but the pools of her dark pupils were glistening with concern, hope, fear.

The hope broke the tiny, shredded remains of Owen's heart. He couldn't ever give Tosh what she wanted. He wanted to, of course he did. But he just couldn't.

"Well," Tosh's lips gave way to another soft sigh, and Owen knew instantly where this conversation was going. "It's Ianto, isn't it?" Tosh asked.

Owen nodded, silently. There was no point in pretending. Tosh must have seen, hell, Owen was surprised the whole world hadn't fucking noticed by now.

"And...You love him, don't you?" Tosh asked. She wasn't stupid. It hurt, but it was true. She suddenly felt scarily like Gwen, hopelessly in love with someone who would not love her back. She realised how lonely it felt. But Gwen had Rhys. Rhys _loved_ her. Tosh had no one, and she couldn't keep kidding herself Owen would wake up one day and suddenly be in love with her. Especially not after this.

She barely had to ask the question; she already knew the answer. But Owen's second nod came like a punch to the stomach - which she'd already received from Gwen and really didn't appreciate the repeat of.

Tosh opened her mouth, but words failed her. She couldn't even fake a smile and say congratulations. Because Owen had become one of them. The victims of love, the unloved ones. The ones who had to stand on the outside, and watch the loved ones bloom under Cupid's touch.

They were the ones no one wanted.

It was a sick little love web, really. Tosh helplessly in love with Owen, Owen now having fallen in love with Ianto, Ianto and Jack practically the Romeo and Juliet of Torchwood. Tosh bit her lip to repress a laugh as the thought of Jack and Ianto donning a Clare Danes and Leonardo Di Caprio persona entered her mind.

But then Gwen, so obsessed with Jack, so annoyingly in love with him when she had everything. She'd even had Owen once.

Owen, not wanting her sympathy, her condolences or even her comfort anymore, simply looked at her as he muttered: "I know," Voice growing ever stronger, he continued, "Don't. Just...don't, please."

Tosh nodded, knowing what he was asking of her. Reluctantly, she let go of his arm, as they heard Ianto pounding up the stairs. What they didn't expect to hear, as the pair ran out onto the landing, was the cursing of a Blowfish, expertly handcuffed by Ianto.

Jack was laughing, Gwen uncharacteristically helping the Welshman as he hauled the Blowfish up the stairs. Ianto grinned, cheerily, as he saw Tosh and Owen. Owen flushed scarlet, blissfully unaware that his head now looked like a tomato.

"Hiya," Ianto called, still grinning. That was unlike him. Tosh was surprised. After everything, how could Ianto manage to stay so strong? He really was one hell of a man. But...maybe it wasn't that. Maybe he'd finally had the confidence boost he needed, the sweet glory of finally being in love with someone who could, would and _did_ love him back. Maybe it was what he'd always craved. Tosh couldn't blame him. Jack may love Ianto, and Tosh really couldn't blame him for that either, but he could never truly love him the way Owen clearly did.

"Get away?" Ianto teased Jack, as he dropped the Blowfish on top of the immortal.

"Oi," Jack warned, though he couldn't help laughing. "Little help would be nice," The older man hinted.

Ianto, much to Owen's surprise, ignored Jack, his gaze falling on the medic. Owen tried to think of something to say, but just stuttered, still blushing. He probably would have stayed like that for the next few hours, had Tosh not nudged him, pretty indiscreetly. Owen wracked his brains for something to come out with, anything. Without thinking, he blurted out: "Nice...handcuff-ing." _Fuck_.

Ianto laughed, a little nervously. He had realised he made Owen embarrassed, but he hadn't known it had gotten this bad. "Thanks."

Owen, knowing what a twat he must have sounded, quickly tried to save the situation, but Jack, as always, butted in with: "He's had plenty of practise,"

It was Ianto's turn to go scarlet as Tosh and Gwen tittered, knowing exactly what Jack had meant, and Owen tried hard not to puke. "Thanks, Jack," Ianto muttered, clearly uncomfortable. He looked up at Owen, apologetically. That had been unnecessary, but then again, that was Jack. But it still wasn't fair. Ianto knew what it was like to have second place practically tattooed on your forehead. It hurt, and Ianto simply couldn't live with the thought of anyone putting up with the torture he had to endure, always being second place.

Jack pushed the Blowfish back down the stairs, Gwen followed with Tosh in tow, leaving Ianto and Owen alone together. Ianto smiled at Owen, feeling more than a little nervous by this point. "By the way," He said, as they made their way down the stairs. "Thanks for coming to see me this morning."

Owen's eyes turned wide. _What_?! "Er...I..." Owen mumbled, trying to think of a good excuse. Did that mean Ianto knew that it hadn't been..._Oh, shit._

"I know it wasn't Jack," Ianto replied, trying desperately to look calm. He wasn't, the truth in the words he was about to admit scared the hell out of him and he didn't like it one bit. But he couldn't hide the way he felt anymore.

"Oh, shit, Ianto, I'm so sorry," Owen didn't really know what to say. _Sorry for getting into bed with you, I just couldn't help it. My hard-on was completely innocent, I swear_.

"But," Ianto added, voice dropping considerably, nerves cutting at his stomach. He looked up at the older man, biting his lip, force of childish habit. Ianto's penetrating blue eyes bore into Owen's as he said: "I still meant what I said."


	16. Chapter 16

**As always, many thanks to my beta, Viva Para Amar. You keep me going :) x**

Both Owen and Ianto refused to say a word the whole way back to the Hub, prompting mixed reactions from everyone. Gwen, insensitive as ever, was talking at double the speed to make up for Owen's sarcastic comments and Ianto's dry wit and impeccable sense of humour, but everyone still felt the tangible drop in atmosphere. Gwen knew that there was something wrong, seriously wrong to get Owen this down.

Gwen just didn't know what. She wasn't even sure she _wanted_ to know. But she wasn't stupid. She'd noticed the change in Owen recently; she'd seen with her own two eyes the cuts still scarring Ianto's wrists. Everyone else probably thought she wouldn't notice the damage caused, but she had. She liked to think she knew Owen better than anyone else. But, knowing Ianto, he was probably now knew everything there was to know about Owen, as he had with Jack. However, Gwen was sure she knew the truth. Ianto may have been invited into both Jack and Owen's beds, but that was all he was good for. Putting up with constantly being second best, and never complaining.

Tosh was concerned, not because of her unconditional and painfully unreciprocated love for the medic, but for the friendship they shared. She could see how cut up Owen was, and she feared for him. She knew exactly what it was like; she'd dealt with it every day she'd worked for Torchwood. She knew the loneliness and unbearable self-pity and hatred inside out. Tosh wasn't blind; she could see exactly who Owen was hung up on. The man with more than enough on his plate without a starry-eyed medic hanging on his every word.

Tosh could see that this may be Ianto's fault, but ultimately, he wasn't to blame. Not to her. No, she blamed this solely on Jack. That man had caused more than enough heartbreak, jealousy and lies and she was sick of it.

Jack, though Tosh was unaware of this, also blamed himself. He knew he should have never given Ianto a single reason to leave him. Every lie, every put-down, every skeleton hidden away in Jack's enormous closet, they'd all added up. Every flirtatious look and comment had pushed the Welshman further and further away. And it was all Jack's fault.

The immortal may have known Ianto was the one he needed to hold on to, he just hadn't worked out how yet.

*

Once back at the Hub, Jack insisted Ianto help him lock up their "new friend", as he had so quaintly put it. Owen clearly wasn't happy with this.

"Are you _sure_ you don't need me to go with Ianto instead?" Owen asked for the fifth time. _He _needed to go with Ianto, not Jack. He had to talk to the Welshman; he had to know. He needed the answer. The answer to the question the medic kept asking himself over and over: Was it him? Had Owen finally gotten what he wanted – needed – so badly?

Ianto smiled at the medic, a little guiltily. He normally would have found such affection and devotion annoying, but from Owen it was...completely unexpected, and in a weird kind of way, sweet. The rest of the team, however, especially Jack, were beginning to get more than a little hacked off.

"Actually," Owen's voice had changed. It was now uncharacteristically light; he'd had an idea. "I think I need to go with Jack instead."

Every single person in the Hub looked up at Owen in surprise; even the Blowfish seemed to. Eyes wide, mouths parting, they all stared at him. Jack spoke first, swallowing.

"Er, okay..." His voice was hesitant; Ianto didn't recognise it at all. Jack nodded, trying to rid the string of worry that was tying itself into knots in his head.

He didn't quite know what he was nervous about. Owen had said, hadn't he? That Ianto had chosen him. He didn't know how, or what miracle had made him reach that decision, but Jack was beyond grateful for whatever it was.

Whatever reason that had finally given him a second chance, and he was gunna grab it with both hands.

Leaving Ianto with just a smile and eyes he prayed would convey everything he couldn't will his mouth to say. No matter how much Owen would tear him apart down in the vaults, hell, maybe he would kill him; it offered him great comfort that he had Ianto.

Or did he?

Owen was quiet on the way down to the vaults; Jack hadn't exactly expected small talk but no sarcastic comments in over 10 minutes...there was definitely something wrong.

The medic refused to speak as they dragged their new friend into a vault. Though Owen's "angry" face was quite amusing, Jack noted with interest.

Still scowling, the medic practically punched a button on the side of the door, and the glass panel slid shut, trapping the blowfish, and leaving Jack and Owen standing awkwardly in the corridor. "Right, Harkness."

Ooh, he's gone all commanding. "Yes, Harper?"

Jack's tone was infuriating, making Owen's blood boil. Flames of red shot across his cheeks, leaving his normally pale face looking oddly colourful. Jack realised Owen had probably never gotten so worked up about anything before. Possibly trying to get Dianne back, but Ianto had dealt with that, while Jack was...

Even the thought made Jack's throat tighten. It wasn't love, not even lust, but regret, that oh-so familiar feeling. He couldn't save Captain Jack Harkness. Story of his life.

But maybe there was more than that. After Jack had died under Abaddon, Ianto must have...God, Jack didn't even want to consider it. He'd found his coat stained with fresh tears, and the immortal could guess whose eyes had shed them.

Jack, despite himself, smiled. He may not deserve Ianto Jones' love, but he got it all the same, and that meant the world to him.

But it was more than that, more than the world. Because Jack Harkness could save the world a million times, but if he came back and Ianto was no longer there, it would all be for nothing.

Because no one was worth saving - no one - if not Ianto.

But, what he had realised, was that Owen had been there for Ianto when Jack had failed. When he had run off, Owen must have worked and worked to earn the amount of trust Jack saw in Ianto's eyes every time he looked at the medic.

The truth was, Owen deserved Ianto's love a hell of a lot more than Jack.

Too bad Jack wasn't giving up that easy.

The immortal didn't realise Owen was talking. "What I said, earlier...About...About Ianto choosing you,"

Jack nodded, evenly meeting Owen's dark eyes. "What about it?" Oh God, why was Owen talking about this? What could have changed in less than an hour?

"I wouldn't be so sure," Owen warned, turning to walk away, but Jack's hand on his arm held him back.

Voice low and snarling, eyes dark with a bitter confusion, Jack growled: "What is that supposed to mean?"

Owen shrugged, infuriatingly off-hand. "I think you should ask Ianto," He advised. He wouldn't normally be this cocky about something that he may have gotten entirely wrong, but Ianto wouldn't just say he loved Owen for no reason. He clearly _wanted_ a reaction...didn't he?

"Owen," Jack was beyond exasperated, and he looked completely helpless. "I'm sick of riddles, from both you and Ianto," Owen raised a sceptical eyebrow, but allowed Jack to continue. "I need to know the truth." What if Ianto had really chosen Owen? Jack had been deluding himself thinking he actually had a chance. He didn't deserve one, why would Ianto trust him after everything? Jack felt like crying. He couldn't let Ianto go, not after all they'd been through, not after all the terrifying things Jack felt for the Welshman.

"Maybe this isn't only about you," Owen snarled, hurt and fury rising in his throat. Jack thought this was all so simple. Win Ianto back, live happily ever after. Had Jack never considered that maybe, just maybe, Owen was so much better for Ianto than he was? He could offer him a _life_, not just a lifetime.

"I know that," Jack replied, exasperated. He wasn't quite _that_ stupid. This was about Ianto, too. Though, what Owen was doing in the equation, Jack wasn't entirely sure.

"I don't think you do," Owen very nearly punched the smug look straight off of Jack's face. He thought this wasn't important. Did he not know that the decision Ianto was soon to make, maybe he'd already been made, could change Owen's life forever? "I think you like to pretend this is easy for all of us. Well, it's not. Not for me, and certainly not for Ianto. Maybe you can sit back and imagine that we're only the little people, the ones who don't count. Give us thirty years; there'll be a bunch of other pretty people doing your shit. You think we don't count, that we're just...just a _blip_?" Owen shook his head, incredulously. "We're so much more than that, Jack. We're not just your workers. We're real people, with real feelings, and you need to wake up to that fact."

Jack was struck somewhere between disbelief and fury. "You think I don't know that?" His voice was low and threatening. Owen had crossed the line in thinking he didn't care. The truth was he cared more than he'd ever admit. There were no little people, as far as he was concerned. No one was forgotten about.

"I care about Ianto more than you could ever understand," The immortal continued, forgetting he was in a smelly vault with a blowfish and a man he couldn't stand. It didn't matter that the CCTV was still running and everyone in the Hub could probably hear him. He didn't care. "You just won't let that go. The fact that I _love_ him. You just won't let us be happy. Just because your own life got fucked up doesn't mean you can ruin mine."

Owen nearly laughed. "And who the hell do you think fucked up my life?" Jack's expression was completely blank. "It was all you!"

"Oh yeah," Jack replied, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "Because Dianne leaving was my fault. It was _my_ fault she chose to leave you. I'm to blame for the fact that you're in love with a man you can never, ever have. It's my fault Katie died." Owen looked devastated, but Jack wasn't finished yet. "The truth is, Harper, _you_ failed. _You_ messed everything up. And it's _you_ who can't accept the fact that maybe you're not as great as you pretend you are."

Owen stared into the dark pits of Jack's blue eyes, incredulously. Taking a step closer to the medic so that their noses were almost touching, Jack snarled, "Ianto will _never_ love you. _Never_. He'll never be yours. He knows how much I love him, how much more I can give him than you. Accept it and _move on_."

*

"Ianto?" Jack's voice, unnervingly controlled, cleverly masking any emotion, caught Ianto off guard. Recently Jack hadn't had any trouble expressing his feelings, why the sudden change of heart?

Oh God, Ianto felt his stomach flip. Maybe that was exactly what this was about. A change of heart. Literally.

"I think," Jack's eyes captured Ianto's own and stared him down, cold and determined. It scared the hell out of the Welshman. "I think we need to talk."


	17. Chapter 17

**Words fail me in order to thank my beta. She's...amazing. More than that, she's really kept me going, and whilst I'm the one updating, she's the one who's really put the effort in and held my hand when it needed holding. Thanks so much, Aimee. She's who you have to thank for this. :)**

As Captain Jack Harkness closed the door, it let out a sharp groan. Jack felt like screaming at it but quickly stopped himself, remembering who was behind him.

Turning, he stared between Owen and Ianto, trying hard not to look at either one of them. Of course, he was still so in love with Ianto it made him sick, but every time he saw the Welshman he felt sickeningly betrayed. Hearing all Owen had to say about Ianto, something must have happened. Sure, Jack wasn't exactly angelic when it came to loyalty, but _Owen_?

Jack had been faithful since the day he returned to Torchwood, not before, but... He'd never do this. He supposed it was what he deserved. Since he'd come back, he...he'd really tried to make a go of things. He hadn't treated Ianto right, but he'd been determined to make up for that. Jack supposed he hadn't succeeded. At least, not the way he wanted to.

Owen set his eyes on Ianto, dark pupils desperately seeking answers, _anything_. He felt so alone in the big office, separate from Jack and Ianto somehow. He supposed it was because they had each other. Who did Owen have? The medic inwardly sighed. He'd tried to stay optimistic but the weight of what he was about to uncover was crushing him. He was about to discover the truth...but Owen thought maybe, it would have been easier living a lie. He didn't think he could handle the truth. Because he knew what it would be.

Ianto would choose Jack. It was inevitable; as much as Owen tried to convince himself he was wrong.

Ianto couldn't stand the tension and awkward silence that hung over the room like a drape. He stood up from his place perched on the desk, startling both Jack and Owen, who had been trying, and failing, to think of something to say that wouldn't sound either possessive or insane, or maybe both.

"I'm not being funny," Owen drew in a breath as Ianto's soft accent caressed the words gently, "but what do you guys want? I mean, I doubt you'd drag me into an office to sit and say nothing. Unless you've gone all Jedi on me."

Owen laughed out loud at this; Jack looked at the Welshman questioningly. _Jedi_? Was that some kind of insult? The immortal brushed the thought aside, instead replying, "I...No, there was something I -," Owen shot the older man a pointed look, and Jack quickly corrected, "We wanted to ask you."

Ianto just looked between the two men, perfectly confused. Jack swallowed. "I mean...recently, there's been so many lies, so many secrets..."

The Welshman's face fell. He tried so hard to believe they'd gotten past this. Ianto knew he'd screwed up, he'd wanted to make it right...was Jack determined for this to hang over him?

Jack, seeing the look on Ianto's face, quickly continued, "From all of us. And... I don't really think either of us," Jack pointed to himself and Owen, "knows where we stand."

"What do you mean?" Ianto asked, defiantly.

"He means," Owen cut in, sensing Ianto's fragile state. It wasn't just his medical training; he'd grown so close to Ianto in the past few weeks, he could read him like a book. Except when it came to this. This completely stumped him. "We don't know what to do," Owen stopped being in an office, it was just him and Ianto now. "You have to choose. Me or him. You told me you loved me," Owen missed Jack's face falling a mile, but Ianto didn't. He shot the immortal an apologetic look, knowing it wouldn't be enough, but at least it was something.

"But you never _show_ it," Owen continued, "but you and Harkness flash it to everyone and their mothers. I can't keep listening to your riddles and having no idea what to do to make it better for you. We're both in love with you." Ianto was past surprised at this. How could...why would...? "And we want you to choose. Me or him," Owen repeated. His earlier fears forgotten, he spoke determinedly, not caring how pathetic or desperate he sounded. He knew what he wanted. The question was, did Ianto?

Ianto's eyes were wide and pleading, voice soft as he spoke, "Please...please, Owen, don't make me do this."

Owen's face contorted in rage, causing Ianto to make an involuntary step backwards. Owen was furious; how could Ianto think this was so simple? He was messing with people's lives and once confronted with a question about what the hell he wanted, he closed up, unable to come up with anything. How could he act so innocent? He'd torn Owen's world apart in a number of days, and now he was acting like he didn't care enough to make a decision. Stopping himself, Owen's train of thought paused. That wasn't Ianto. Not even close. No, that was the green monster living inside Owen's heart, trying to protect him but ultimately only causing him more pain.

Jack was about to butt in, when he saw the look on Owen's face, and he completely understood. Ianto thought this was hard for him - what about the person he left behind? Jack had originally been confident it wouldn't be him. But now, he wasn't so sure. Ianto had told Owen that he _loved him_, Owen had said so. But the Welshman had never told Jack he loved him. But he _acted_ like it. Words were just words, right? That's what Ianto had told him once. Actions spoke louder than words. Jack had to keep telling himself that, telling himself there was still hope, there was still a chance. He and Ianto still had a chance. Mixed with this and the tearing dread that Ianto might turn on him and destroy everything they'd had together, both Jack's head and heart were all over the place.

"Why not?" Jack didn't realise Owen was still talking, voice shaking dangerously.

"Because," Ianto's voice was still painstakingly gentle, still speaking to Owen, "it'll be him."

Ianto swallowed the bitterness creeping up his throat, and let out his first patient, unhurried breath since the day he and Jack had split. But it _had_ always been Jack, surely Owen had known that. Yes, maybe Ianto had acted in a way to make the medic feel otherwise, but ultimately, Jack was the one Ianto couldn't live without. _Wouldn't _live without. Not for anyone. Not even for the brown-eyed medic Ianto's heart had melted for.

Jack's jaw dropped.

Words failed Owen.

"It's always been him," Ianto whispered. "I'm so sorry, Owen."

No further words were spoken.


	18. Chapter 18

**So, it's been too long since an update. But I do have an excuse for the weekend, I WENT TO HUB 5 :D It was AMAAZING. Eve and Kai and Tom and Naoko were BRILLIANT, especially the boys, they were hilarious. It was fabulous, and if any of you are free on October 1 - 3, I'd SO recommend you go. Tickets are expensive but it's so worth it. Can't wait to go to the next one with Viva Para Amar :D**

**Once again, thanks to my fabulous beta, Aimee, who keeps me sane with an extortionate number of texts and emails :) Love you!**

Also, there are tissue warnings for this chapter. I'm sorry :'(

One choice, Ianto thought, sat demurely at his desk in the fake tourist office; one choice had changed so many things.

Predominantly, Owen. Ianto sighed, thinking fondly of the medic. One choice had sent the medic spiralling into shut down. Ianto had tried to step in, as Owen had for him, but this time, he was turned away. Turned away with empty eyes and a cold heart. And it was all Ianto's fault.

The change in Owen had been almost tangible, the way he'd walked, talked, the lack of sleeping and eating had made him wirier than he already was. Pale skin had turned sheet white, dark hair had grown lank, and brown eyes had turned...dead.

Dead, Ianto considered. That's how Owen looked now. _Dead_. Ianto shuddered; a fate so easily decided by Torchwood. And what would be left behind? Safety for the people of the world? Maybe some of them didn't deserve safety. The ones who walked round with the weight of the world on their shoulders, looking like they carried it all, they were the ones who made Ianto angry. He, Ianto Jones, risked his life everyday. Sometimes twice on a busy run. He was helplessly in love with an immortal man who would, eventually, forget him. Because he forgot them all, in the end.

So those people, who acted like they carried the world, they knew nothing. They carried _nothing_. Those teens who occasionally yelled abuse at Ianto as he walked past – "queer" – Ianto wondered if any one of those kids knew how many times he had saved their lives. Would they look at him in the same way? Would they dare?

No.

But did he really deserve their gratitude, now? Did he even want it? After all the pain and longing and damage and sharp shreds at hearts Ianto had caused, the last thing he deserved was gratitude. He deserved someone to punch him in the face. But he knew neither Jack nor Owen would give him that satisfaction. He wanted to hurt for what he'd done. But they wouldn't let him. Ianto couldn't even be distraught by the change he'd caused in Owen. Because that made Jack hurt. And Ianto would not cause him pain. No more than he already had.

A sharp _ping_ from his computer signalled that one Captain Jack Harkness had sent an email his way. Sighing, drawn from his melodramatic thoughts, Ianto clicked _open_.

From: _Jack Harkness_

To: _Ianto Jones_

RE: VIP guest.

Ianto,

Expect a Miss Martha Jones shortly. She's an old friend of mine, don't ask. One of the Doctor's companions, I think I mentioned her to you? Regardless, she's to be sent through immediately. She's visiting from UNIT – red caps, I seem to recall? I'll see if I can get her to send one, special delivery... and I think it would be...educational for her to meet the team. I think she could teach Owen a thing or two, she's a doctor.

Ianto winced at the thought of Owen having to smile, falsely; pretending to be welcoming when he was dying inside, something he couldn't mask with sarcasm and flirtatious comments. Pushing that thought aside, Ianto continued to read.

Don't pull the fake tourist bollocks. You're great at it, but she's smart. She'll know. Have coffee waiting, could you? You're probably busy, but she's never been here before. You can't experience Torchwood without your coffee. It's hardly fair.

Thanks,

Jack.

Hardly surprising, Ianto thought. Jack was normally sincere in emails, pretty much anything to do with technology, so the limited flirting was to be expected. So, brew Jack's infamous industrial strength coffee, set up boardroom for a meeting with the guest, inform the other workers, clean the Hub of crap that was inevitably going to be left lying around, predominantly by the Captain himself...

Ianto bit his lip, as he considered the next change his choice had inflicted. Jack. If anything, the change in him hadn't been especially noticeable. Only to Owen, because he knew, and Ianto, because, well...Ianto knew everything.

The first few weeks had been...rocky, to say the least. It'd taken far longer than it should have for Ianto and Jack to familiarise themselves with each other again. It was surprising how a week or two apart could cause so much damage, and so much change. From kisses to much, much more, everything had felt new. Ianto had changed dramatically in the few weeks they'd been apart, and while it had taught Ianto the truth in the depth of the feelings he harboured for Jack, it had torn away little pieces of his heart the Welshman could now never offer the immortal.

But to begin with, Ianto wasn't even sure Jack would want those pieces of him back. He'd felt betrayed, and had had every right to. The immortal hadn't pushed Ianto, but had made it clear he wanted answers. Owen had fallen in love with Ianto, and that wasn't a one sided thing. Ianto had explained, eventually. He'd introduced Jack to the heartbreaking states of mind he'd encountered, in the desperate hope that he, of all people, would understand.

Ianto hadn't been disappointed.

Everything was nearly back to normal. The damage Ianto had done to Torchwood, to himself and Jack, and, predominantly, to Owen, was slowly starting to mend. And, besides, maybe Jack was right. Maybe this Martha would be good for Owen.

It was easy enough to hack into UNIT's files; they really needed a better security system, Ianto thought as he casually browsed for Martha's details. Plucking her name out of a long list of employees, Ianto gaped as a photo of her zoomed onto his computer screen. He could see what Jack meant. Yep, this would _definitely_ be good for Owen. So why did Ianto hate the thought of that so much? Owen hooking up with one of Jack's "friends"...it didn't seem right, somehow. Ianto couldn't ignore the, "I'm the only one he should be hooking up with..." that was playing over and over in his head. Shoving aside that thought aside with a firm hand, Ianto considered the other team member's reactions to the new "guest."

Ianto's heart suddenly tugged slightly for Tosh. Yet another attractive female to rub in her face what Owen was too blind to see. How could he have not noticed by now? After falling head over heels for Ianto, you'd think he would open his eyes a bit more to the world around him. Some people, the Welshman sighed, never change.

Glancing down at his newspaper, scanning the crisp pages idly, he heard the ring of the bell as the door creaked open. "Sorry," Ianto didn't even bother to glance up, instead too engulfed in a story about a 36 stone teenager. "We're closing."

A hand flicked out, effortlessly. Raising his eyes, Ianto yelped in surprise and leapt into action as he saw the picture in front of him. _Martha Jones. UNIT employee 055._ Crap.

*

Ianto smiled as Owen's eyes flickered with light as Martha re-entered the room. He didn't miss his smile as the woman expertly picked the pieces up, and shoved them together. The proud, deserving smirk that he tried so hard to hide, Ianto still saw. And it pleased him.

Owen, more than anyone, deserved to be happy. After Ianto, he needed some light in his life. He needed it. The others may not see it, but Ianto knew. The Welshman knew what lay beneath Owen's bravado and his sarcasm. A deserving, loving heart desperate to give.

Jack Harkness' eyes roamed across the table. He'd grown quickly bored with Martha's analysis, she was great at this kind of thing, he had no doubt she would be right. Meeting Ianto's steady gaze from across the end of the table and smiling, Jack forgot the boardroom, and the problem they were currently facing. He forgot Owen, desperate, jaded Owen who had fallen so deeply for Ianto and been rejected, mercilessly. He forgot Martha, his "VIP guest", he forgot the team and Torchwood and the _world_, and brought his coffee mug to his lips, taking a sip and winking saucily at Ianto, who turned hastily scarlet, and looked away. Ever professional, Jack just grinned, pulling his heart off his sleeve and the lump out of his throat and focussing on Martha.

Owen noticed this small interaction, and felt like a stone had been thrown through his chest. That dull, fiery ache was back, making the tips of his fingers tingle with a heady pain and jealousy. Pushing the pain and the hurt aside, he tried his best to smile at Martha. She took the pain away, he thought, as she smiled back, and the fire raging in his delicate heart lessened, just a little bit.

*

"Now, let's not be stupid. Okay?" _How the hell did this happen?_

Owen's panicked glance at Ianto was the only tell-tale sign that he was scared. Really fucking scared, and he needed someone. Ianto could have pulled his gun to Doctor Aaron Copley and shot. But he didn't. He just stood, frozen, eyes wide and gasping for breath.

The Pharm, the horror-filled Pharm with the experiments and the aliens hidden in the closet and the medicine that could revolutionise the world, mindless of a few deaths. But it wasn't just a few deaths. It was murder in cold blood. Ianto shuddered, unconsciously. Why did that thought make his heart race?

But then the Doctor went and pulled his gun, pointing its silently threatening end at Martha. Owen's weak point. Anyone else could look after themselves. But it _had_ to be her. And then Gwen, of course, had to play the heroin. She pulled her own gun, shoving the point in Aaron's direction.

_Leave her, Martha will be fine, just leave her, be safe_, Ianto silently pleaded. _Don't,_ he wanted to scream as Owen stepped closer, but Jack's hard eyes kept him silent.

"We're both rational men," Ianto didn't miss the shake in Owen's usually steady voice, "scientists."

_No, _Ianto's mind shrieked. _Do something_, he urged Jack. _Please_. Jack took a hesitant step forward, as Owen continued to call the Doctor's obvious bluff. He wouldn't...would he? Could he?

_Please don't._

"I know you don't want to shoot,"

_Bang._

Owen's body went slack as he gasped for air. _No,_ Ianto couldn't find his voice. It was lost somewhere in his stomach. _Not Owen, not him, please_...

Toshiko's horrified gasp, Ianto tried to ignore. He had to be okay, he _had_ to... Tosh tried to walk forward and nearly fell, but Ianto didn't have the heart to help her, to hold her. To tell her it would all be alright when he knew it wouldn't be.

Nothing could be alright, not now.

Martha was by Owen's side in an instant. _Help him, please..._

"Owen! Can you hear me, Owen?!"

Toshiko, voice broken, barely carrying through the biting night air. "You've got to help him!"

_Oh my God...He's gunna die, and I can't save him_.

_Not like he saved me._

As Jack dropped to his knees, forgotten were the bitter words, the hurt and heartbreak the two men had shared. Owen was Jack's brother, where it counted, anyway, and he _needed_ him. Ianto _needed_ him. He'd never forgive him if Jack let him die. He couldn't. Owen couldn't...

The immortal didn't realise he was speaking, "Owen? Stay with me, Owen. Owen, look at me, look at me." Hands cupping the gentle, pale face that held so many emotions, Jack bit his lip, foolishly. _Not another one,_ he pleaded, _not another death. Not another brother._ "Owen, look right at me." _Just keep him conscious, please... _"Stay with me, Owen, stay with me." _Please_. "Stay with me, buddy," _you're my friend. You can't leave me. _"Come on. Come on."

Pulling a syringe from God knows where, Martha plunged it into Owen's chest, furiously. The harsh breathing slowed, the medic's panicked eyes grew peaceful, as they rolled back, resting on Ianto. A tremble swept over his lips, a gentle but unmistakable, "_I love you_."

"I love you," Ianto whispered, aware that no one's eyes were on him. He wouldn't have cared if they were. He needed Owen to know that he loved him.

And then he just...stopped. Frantically checking for a pulse, Martha's eyes met Jack's. "He's dead," She said, almost uncertainly.

Ianto could only watch as the man he'd loved so deeply, was dragged away. It happened so fast...too fast, it wasn't... He couldn't be dead. Not Owen. Please not him. Not after this.

"Owen..."


	19. Chapter 19

"The time is 21:30. This is Doctor Martha Jones. Autopsy on Owen Harper."

No one missed the small hiss that escaped an extremely broken Ianto's lips, but Martha continued regardless, barely sparing him a fleeting glance. Ianto closed his parted mouth, trying to block everything out. He couldn't deal with this... Owen, very much alive and kicking one minute, then lying dead before him with just the faintest declaration of love. One which Ianto had reciprocated. There was no denying it, not now, what would be the point? He couldn't lie to himself, and he certainly couldn't lie to everyone else. Owen, one of the men he loved so dearly was now dead. And Ianto couldn't stand it.

He wished he knew where Jack was; didn't the immortal understand how hard this would be for him? Maybe it would be even worse for Jack, loosing a team mate and friend, especially under the current – or rather former – circumstances.

Still, Ianto needed someone here.

Tosh was trying hard not to cry, Gwen slumped against the wall with a look of complete shock still plastered all over her face. Ianto felt a slight shiver of empathy. He used to look on Gwen as a liability, however the more pressing situation of his maybe-I'm-in-love-with-Owen-but-I-know-I-love-Jack-so-what-the-fuck-is-going-on scenario had brought that distaste crashing down around him. It'd really made him see how unrealistic Gwen's unmistakable fantasy was. Jack would never love her, not the way he loved Ianto, and the Welshman knew that. He trusted Jack, now more than ever.

Now Owen was dead, who else did he have to trust?

"Caucasian, age 27."

_So young_, the unspoken words echoed around the autopsy bay. It felt unbearably empty with the corpse of its main resident now lying on the table he'd performed so many miracles on, now dead himself.

"Torchwood officer 565. Time of death witnessed at approximately 20:30. Autopsy begins."

Oh God, Ianto thought, it all feels so _real_. As Martha regarded the set of instruments she'd been supplied with, expression clouded with gentle distain, Ianto had to stop himself gasping as she selected the biggest knife that lay on the small table. It silently yelled at Ianto; _not good enough, couldn't save him, couldn't help him, couldn't love him the way he wanted you to...not enough._

_Shut up, shut up!_

Martha prepared to make the first cut. She looked round furtively, seeing if Jack had decided to turn up yet. When there was no sign, she prepared silently to make the first cut.

Ianto rolled his head back, eyes closing. He couldn't bear it, just the sight of Owen Harper, dead and gone, made him want to throw up. How could a man with such compassion and love and _life_ lie there, stranded in a shell, a mess of blood and broken dreams?

But even with his eyes closed, Ianto could still smell the dark, bitter stench of sweat and blood that clung to the air. A cold sweep of nostalgia rolled over him, numbing every sense left in his pitiful, painfully neglected body. The parts that didn't die an hour ago, alongside Owen.

As a sharp intake of breath from Toshiko indicated that Martha's knife was about to cut the surface of Owen's milky skin, Ianto heard the squeal of the curtain rails, as the realms of material were pushed back, revealing a very disgruntled and distraught looking Jack Harkness sprinted through. Perfect timing, Ianto thought errantly, as always. Did this mean he'd thought of something? There had to be something, they couldn't just – Ianto had to stop himself. It was stupid to be hopeful, even with Jack around. There was no saving Owen, and that was just the way it was.

"_Stop!_" What the hell was he playing at? "Nobody touches him till I get back, is that clear?"

Unnecessarily, Ianto nodded. Anything to postpone them hurting Owen, _his_ Owen. Gwen and Toshiko and Martha exchanged pained looks as Jack fled the Hub. Martha was still holding the knife over Owen's body, Ianto noticed, and fought the urge to tell her where to stick it. When had he gotten this protective?

She lowered it, thankfully, away from the medic's body – because that's all it was now, just a _body_, a _corpse _– she and the rest of the females turned to Ianto with similar looks of suspicion and surprise plastering their faces. He didn't miss the flicker of hope that sparked quite deliberately across each of their faces. How could they still be hopeful?

Gwen spoke first. No surprises there.

"Okay, what's he up to?"

Ianto realised she was talking to _him_. Well, how would he know? Oh yeah, he was supposed to be the Jack-slave. The person waiting on him 24/7, always being a step ahead, knowing what Jack was thinking about 10 seconds before Jack himself did.

"I don't know," Ianto replied, honestly. "Sorry to disappoint. But you heard the man," He continued, "leave Owen _alone_."

The duo of cards glared up at Jack. First, the knight with scarily similar features to him, then the church. He had to do this; he thought as he pushed his chair back and stood up.

A small voice stopped him as the immortal turned to leave. "If I told you not to use it, would you listen?"

_I know not to use it. That's what's making me do it._

Jack raised a single eyebrow, a trick Ianto had taught him. Though, he feared he couldn't pull it off with such style and class as Ianto had... Oh well. He still looked damned sexy, and that was all that counted. "Shouldn't you know the answer to that?"

He missed the little girl's distant reply, lost in his dramatic exit, as she turned over the third card. _Death_. "I do," she murmured, "That's the problem."

Trust him, trust him, trust him, you _need_ to trust him... Ianto Jones was failing to win himself over as he battled with his emotions. Part of him argued that Jack had both Owen's and Ianto's best interests at heart, he would only have upped and left without saying anything remotely helpful if he knew he could do something to help Owen, wouldn't he?

But the other torn, shred of his heart countered that Owen had tried to take Ianto from Jack...and the immortal certainly wouldn't have forgotten that. But that didn't explain the sudden exit, or the panicked expression Ianto knew so well that he'd seen flash across Jack's face as he left. He could help; the younger man knew he could. So why did he have a dreadful feeling about Jack's return, and what it might bring to both him and Owen?

Ianto let out a sigh as he knew he could take little more. He collapsed on the couch, reassuring words failing him; he knew he should do _something_ to comfort the girls? Tell them he knew Jack would be back any minute, that he'd have some superhero solution that would miraculously bring Owen back? That they should trust him, because he'd never let them down. That Jack could do anything. That was the problem... Ianto knew he couldn't. Even the best had limits. And undoubtedly, bringing back the dead _had_ to be one of them. _No, there has to be _something_, _Ianto argued, _there has to be something he can do. _

Stop it.

_Stop doing this to yourself._ _Stop pretending like there'll always be an answer when there's no question to start with. Owen's gone. _Gone, _and there's nothing you can do, you know that_...

Ianto shuttered his thoughts, trying desperately to block them out. From the dark spells of depression he'd endured as a teenager, he always knew just how to beat himself up about this kind of thing. He slumped backwards against the sofa, fighting the urge to shut his eyes like he used to when he was young enough to believe it would all work out. Block everything out and start over. He knew that this time, that wouldn't work.

Martha sat beside the Welshman, comfortably. Ianto noted that she had changed out of her scrubs, and was dressed in regular clothes. Ianto let out a sigh of relief that thankfully went unnoticed by everyone else. She wasn't planning to cut up Owen any time soon.

Suddenly, the ear-splitting sound Ianto _should_ have gotten used to by now sounded, and a frantic, panicked Jack streaked past them, though the cog doors as soon as they rolled open. He was clutching a small, metal box like his life depended on it. He shot Ianto a sideways, seemingly reassuring smile as he ran past. It didn't help.

"Jack ...?"

Oh, Christ.

Not this. Not now. Not on Owen.

Gwen, Ianto, Tosh and Martha had, undoubtedly, followed the manic Captain into his office, and now were watching, perplexed, as he delved inside the small box, and pulled out the one item that filled Ianto with hope, terror and fear.

The glove – he'd long since put away his witty nicknames. He had been right. They had come in pairs.

Ianto could have smiled. But he didn't deserve to, so his face remained impassive and emotionless.

"Oh my God." Toshiko breathed.

Ianto shot her a small smile filled with empathy. He knew exactly what she was going through. Before, he'd found it impossible to relate to the infatuation she'd held with Owen since the first day they'd met. Maybe it was similar to how Jack and he had started, but at least Jack had felt something back. Either that or he'd been damned good at pretending he had. Ianto paused his train of thought, mentally slapping himself. Was he still questioning Jack's feelings towards him, after all this time?

The truth was, he couldn't help it.

He was vaguely aware of the conversation that was happening around him.

"You can't use that," So now Gwen was giving the orders? "Not after Suzie."

Ianto nearly smiled at Jack's reply. Oh yeah, he thought. _That's_ why I love him. Ianto tried not to feel guilty as he thought that. He deserved to feel guilty, he deserved to die for what he'd put Owen through, but he couldn't help it. Surely Owen would want him to be happy? As if he could hear him, Jack's eyes met the Welshman's, and silent words passed between them in a flash. They'd gotten good at that. Hiding.

"I'm using the glove. I'm bringing Owen back."


	20. Chapter 20

**This chapter is painfully un-beta'd, so any mistake and crapness is mine. I'm so sorry! Please review; I love you all for it. x**

To say that Jack Harkness had completely lost his mind, at this point, was a major understatement. It was no secret that Jack was a stranger to thinking clearly and rationally, but this was completely unexpected. Also completely bizarre, with a more than likely chance of impossibility.

But he had to try; he _had_ to try.

If not for himself, but for Ianto. The Welshman thought he hadn't seen it; the broken look, the emptiness in the dark pits of his eyes – usually so impossibly sky-blue had now changed to storm-cloud. Jack was determined to put the light back in them. He _needed_ to; he needed to see the glimmer of hope that had been a permanent fixture since the day Jack had returned, since the minute they'd become serious. Well, as serious as two alien-fighting, at-it-like-rabbits, crazy, romantically impaired men could be.

But Jack was also determined to make it as serious as humanly possible.

Ianto Jones was a keeper; there was no two ways about it. Whilst the younger man seemed determined to make it near impossible to _be_ kept, Jack was always one for a challenge.

"Jack," Oh God, Jack inwardly moaned. He was _so_ not in the mood for Gwen's preaching right now. "Are you really going to use it after what happened last time?"

_Yes, you nearly got killed, I remember it well._

"At best it'll give us two minutes?" So now Gwen was the glove-expert? "At worst, who knows what could happen?" And now she was taking from him the dramatic, I-could-die-at-any-moment role he held so dear to his heart. Normally, Jack was willing to admit that Gwen could, at times, have a point. But not now. Not about this.

"It's not up for discussion."

_Bloody Hell, Jack Harkness, as if it was possible to love you any more_. Ianto Jones smiled. Whilst his insides were still twisted, torn between pain and yet more pain, head still spinning with the thought of Owen being dead; Jack being alive, it all being too much... he found some comfort in the fact that his undying love for Jack was still there. It felt like he still had something, something left. Something worth fighting for.

"I thought the glove didn't work for you."

The heart monitor beeped it's disapproval at a constant flat line, signalling the already know – Owen, a friend, a colleague, and maybe even a lover, was dead. Ianto had to bite back the bile threatening to hurl itself up and all over the dead man before him. How could he be; he couldn't...

"Different glove, different circumstances," Jack's voice, so full of hope, so optimistic and almost scarily faithful, even at times like this. "This time, it has to work for me; I'm not going to give it a choice."

Ianto forced a strangled smile, trying hard to harbour even half the hope that Jack had, praying – though he'd never been religious – that it _would_ work, because it had to, it just had to...

Jack raised his troubled, ocean blue eyes to meet Ianto's as he added, "Okay, if you've got anything you need to say to Owen, now is your chance." He quickly mouthed at Ianto, _your final chance_. Ianto nodded, swallowing as he registered the double meaning of that.

His final chance to tell Owen he loved him, but his equally final chance to be with Jack, to move on, to love and to be happy.

Jack couldn't bring himself to look at Ianto as he slipped the glove onto his left hand, registering the heavy silence that fell. The immortal cradled Owen's head, closing his eyes and lifting his head to the heavens he knew weren't there, in a vain attempt at some faith, some luck.

"Owen..." Jack suddenly felt foolish; trying to reach he very much dead through a thin sheet of _metal_? "Can you hear me?" But Jack reminded himself who he was doing this for; for Ianto, for his team, for Torchwood. The most important things to him.

Jack was suddenly aware of a faint tugging, like a heart string snapping. Like a lifeline. It was Owen, it _had_ to be. The immortal forced his eyes open, still facing open. He had to get Owen back, he thought as he stole a quick glance at his lover, stopwatch in hand, trying to act professional. But Jack saw the way he was biting his lip, eyes wavering, a gentle plea lying unspoken on his tongue.

He had to bring Owen back.

"Owen! Hear my voice!" _Please, please..._ A flicker. It was something, it was life. It was unmistakably Owen. "Get a hold of it, let it draw you out, pull you out."

Ianto trained his eyes on the monitor, not trusting himself to watch Owen for fear of fainting, bursting into tears, screaming or puking. His heart dropped a mile into his stomach, nausea twisting there in sharp jolts. There was nothing.

"I'm not getting any vital signs." He said, almost to himself. Looking up, he realised everyone had heard, and were looking as heartbroken as he felt.

But Jack Harkness wasn't giving up; Jack Harkness _never_ gave up.

"Owen, it's me...Jack." There he was, a flicker, just a glimpse, but he was pulling on the glove, pulling on the life. Pulling himself out of death and back into the world in which he was so needed. "He's coming," Jack breathed to himself. Then he looked up, saying to everyone, but mostly Ianto, "He's coming!"

Under normal circumstances, Ianto would have a sarcastic remark ready and waiting on the tip of his tongue to respond with, but he just couldn't bring himself to. What was the point?

A sharp, short crackle of an electrical pulse flooded the room, at exactly the same time as Owen's eyes snapped open, and he screamed – loud and long and ear-splitting.

The sound sent shivers down Ianto's spine, but his heart lifted, just a centimetre. Owen was back; but for how long? How long would the Welshman have before he'd have to lose him again?

"Oh, my God." Martha. Ianto had almost forgotten that she was still here. Of course, this was all new to her; she couldn't have seen the resurrection glove in action before. She was lucky.

Owen's eyes flickered around the room, resting on Ianto and softening, bleeding, weeping from inside those chocolate pupils. A thousand emotions that could never, would never be acted upon. Because their time had gone. Ianto found, looking into those deep and scarred pools, he saw a stranger looking back.

"What happened? Where am I? Oh, God, I'm shot; he shot me!"

Jack was somewhere between relieved, elated and terrified. What was he supposed to do now? Tell the medic he was going to die – again – in a number of minutes? "Owen, listen to me, we don't have long."

"Where am I?" Owen wouldn't listen; what the _hell _was going on? "This isn't the hospital, this is the autopsy room." Jack rested the back of his hand against Owen's cheek, trying to calm him. The medic's voice dropped to a mutter, "What am I doing here?" He turned his face just in time to see the glove, and all attempts at peace went out the window. "Jack, oh no, what's that? What's _that_?"

Owen was, though he'd never admit it, more terrified than he'd ever been. Facing aliens, facing dates and facing recently shagged colleagues; facing the man he loved every day whilst that man was playing the sex slave to a man who didn't deserve someone as perfect as him. All of that seemed futile, insignificant, almost _easy_.

Jack may have hated him for everything that had happened in the twisted little love triangle Owen had found himself wound into, but the medic had never thought he'd do this. Bring him back for a few minutes, for what? So Ianto could cry and tell him he loved him but then, when Owen was gone, fling himself into Jack's arms again? Owen knew Ianto loved him – he just knew it – but maybe, just maybe, it wasn't enough anymore.

"The resurrection glove." Jack replied, softly. It may have meant to be gentle, but it just sounded patronising. "We lost you, but I brought you back."

What for?

Owen swallowed the bitter remarks, what was the point anymore? They wouldn't make him live. They wouldn't make Ianto admit exactly how he felt. "How long have I got?" He asked, matter-of-factly.

"We're at thirty seconds and counting." Ianto replied. Each word spoken felt like a dagger through Owen's dead, unbeating heart. There was no emotion, nothing that Ianto could give him. Not even when he only had minutes left.

There was the man Owen loved; counting down the seconds until he died.

How could he do this to him? Maybe Ianto was hurting, but how did he think Owen felt? Numb. But he wasn't even numb, because there was still pain. Still an ache in his heart exactly the shape of Ianto Jones.

"Oh, no," Owen said, but he didn't care. He couldn't care anymore. He didn't have enough sake and reason and _point_ left in him to care. "Jesus. Really?"

"Okay, team," – _Ianto_ – "say your goodbyes."

Owen mumbled something inaudible. _Too late; not enough_.

Jack looked across at Gwen, pale, unmoving. "Gwen."

The Welshwoman didn't move. Jack didn't really expect her to.

"Gwen, no offence, but I've only got two minutes to live!" _Two minutes too long; just let me die, let the pain stop_.

"Tosh!" Jack snapped, annoyed but unsurprised by Gwen's reaction.

Of course, Tosh practically ran forwards, flying down the steps and was by Owen's side in an instant. Her eyes watered, but her words were clear, unhurried, simple. "I'm gunna miss you." Leaning in closer, she whispered, "And I love you. Always have."

All three male pairs of eyes widened. Desperate to draw the attention away from Toshiko and her revelation, Jack looked at Ianto, expecting him to say something. Anything.

The Welshman just shook his head, silently threatening Jack to question him.

The immortal didn't.

Jack racked his brain for something that could distract them all – if Ianto didn't want a confrontation, he wasn't getting a confrontation. "Owen, I need the code for the alien morgue. You're the only one who knows it."

The medic looked disbelieving, but his eyes were finally torn from Ianto. "You brought me back for that? For _that_?" _Not for the man I love, not for love or care or even _friendship_, but for some stupid code?_

"Sorry!" Jack improvised, quickly glancing at Ianto, who was smiling at him in silent gratitude.

"It's..." Owen thought, trying to drag the Welshman out of his mind. "231165."

Ianto mouthed the sequence, trying to remember it. Jack may not need to know it, but it could be useful.

"Okay?" Owen's voice was bitter and cold. Jack couldn't really blame him, the resentment he'd felt for the medic had completely washed away; he saw broken, needy man in front of him and was desperate to help.

"Sorry," Jack repeated. "I want to help you prepare."

Owen swallowed, though there was nothing there _to_ swallow. "There's...nothing." His eyes fell on Ianto, dead and cold. "Just...just darkness."

Ianto was still fighting tears; he couldn't stand the thought of Owen alone in the darkness, no love and compassion as the older man had shown him. As the older man deserved. Voice shaking but somehow still there, Ianto half-whispered, "Two minutes."

"Jack...Jack..." Owen may have been calling Jack's name, but his eyes were on Ianto and they were screaming.

"Be brave!"

Owen settled, eyes closing with one last look at the man he loved. He could die now. He could...the memories of Ianto were strong enough to burn a hole in the darkness; he would be okay.

"Owen..."

Nothing. Just the dull beat of the heart monitor.

"Owen!"

Jack released his hold on Owen's head. And the heavy, deafening beep fell back into one long flat line. Owen was finally, sickeningly, horribly dead.

The immortal was still holding his hand, praying, pleading.

No one said anything, and the room was filled with the silent waiting for the heart beat that would never come. The stench of grief and pain and silence hung in the air, weighing a thousand tonnes.

Toshiko was crying. Ianto wished he could comfort her, but he couldn't bring himself to.

"I'm really going to need that hand back."


	21. Chapter 21

**So, er, serious angst. :) I apologise, I promised Aimee fluff but found no room for it. Thanks so much for reading, please review! xx**

Ianto heard the footsteps behind him, and he knew, he just _knew_. From the pace, to the soft shuffle and the surprisingly distinct lack of breath. The quiet sigh and almost tangible awkwardness that hung in the air. He knew the man behind him; he knew his face and his eyes and what lay in his heart, though he'd tried hard to ignore it.

"Did you get scared back there?"

If Ianto was expecting anything from Owen, a slap or a punch maybe, a plea, a kiss, anything, he wasn't expecting that. Not the low, insulting, almost threatening tone, or the words that sent shivers down his spine or the tears that sprung to Ianto's eyes in the way only someone you really care about could manage to make you do.

"Cat got your tongue?"

The words washed over Ianto like a torrent of cold water, each word inflicting pain in the Welshman's heart in places he didn't know could hurt anymore. Whirling round, lashing out at the daggers slicing through his dreams and hopes, biting back tears, Ianto near-yelled, "Stop it, _stop it_!" Like they were kids. Maybe if they were this would be simpler.

"But it's not always the silent treatment, is it?" Owen continued, regardless of the blatant pain he was causing Ianto; _good_, he thought, _good, he deserves to hurt._ "See, you can come through when you think you're gunna lose me. When I died," Owen laughed. The sound was dark and humourless, sending a cold wave of shivers down Ianto's back. "If you can even call it that."

"Stop it," Ianto begged, not caring that he looked stupid, that this was futile. He couldn't even bring himself to care about the fact that somewhere there were aliens that needed to be stopped or even that the man the Welshman loved was a floor above them. It was just him and Owen. No secrets. No lies. No pretending - because he could never pretend with Owen. Every thought, every wish was laid out for all to see. Ianto's heart had opened for the medic in ways he'd never thought it could; the tiny cracks and crevices he'd hoped were sealed off for good had been ripped open. Every healing wound thoughtlessly un-bandaged. Owen's meddling had filled Ianto with things he'd thought he could never feel again. Not even for Jack – his hero.

"This isn't you," Ianto whispered. "Please, Owen."

"And you think you're the best person to ask about that, do you? About who I 'really am'?" Owen replied, cuttingly. Each new insult pushed Ianto backwards, further into his empty shell he'd once hidden in. But he wasn't that person anymore – Owen had no right to make him feel worthless. He'd built up years of accepting himself, and in less than 2 minutes, the medic had shattered that all. He felt suitably small and insignificant again.

"No, maybe not, but unlike everyone else, I actually give a shit about you." Ianto said, calmly. Loosing it now would do nothing but harm – mostly to himself. "God knows why; it gets me nowhere."

"So stop." Owen told him, like it was simple, like this was all simple. Maybe for him. Win Ianto, game over.

The games were far from over.

"You know I would if I could." Ianto took a hesitant step forward, every muscle in his body screamed at him not to, but it was the only way to get over to _listen_. "Why don't you stop feeling the way you do now?"

Eyes trained on Ianto's lips, Owen swallowed heavily before shaking his head nervously and replying, stuttering adorably, "What do you mean?"

Ianto kept walking forward until their chests where almost touching. Owen's eyes didn't move. The Welshman reached out with both hands to cup one of Owen's own. He had to repress a shudder at the icy touch of the medic, the cold skin, so obviously dead, but he kept holding. "Stop feeling the way you do now," Ianto continued, deliberately rolling his tongue across his teeth with each word, "with me, for me. Because it's still there, isn't it? Even after all this, it's still there. That feeling."

"Stop it," Now it was Owen's turn to do the pleading. "You know I can't stop." _I wouldn't want to, even if I could stop. I'd rather only have you like this, than never have had you._

"Neither can I. But it's not enough, is it?" _I can never love you enough..._

"What do you mean?" Owen repeated, almost incredulously.

"It's still not enough, Owen. You may think you love me –"

"I do," The medic cut in, his voice high but uncharacteristically sincere. "I completely do. So much more than _he_," Ianto didn't even have to ask who Owen was referring to, "ever can."

"Maybe that's true," Ianto allowed, calmly, repressing the little spark of delight that buzzed inside him. "But I saw the way you looked when Tosh said...what she said." The words tasted bitter in his mouth, the Welshman could barely spit out the words without screaming.

"I don't love her like I love you," Owen replied, evenly. Truthfully, Ianto realised. He had hardly ever heard the medic speak so sincerely before. "I never could."

"You could try?" Ianto asked, feebly. _He shouldn't have to..._

"I wouldn't want to. There's only ever been three people in my life I was willing to give my heart to completely. The other two were torn away from me; please don't do the same. I can't lose you."

Ianto took a deep breath, swallowing the tears and the heartfelt confessions of love he was all ready to shed. He couldn't, not now. As much as he wanted to, and he did. He did more than he could comprehend. He did the only think he saw fit; he leant forward and pressed a gentle kiss to Owen's forehead. The skin felt cold and wrong, but Ianto didn't say as much. As he turned to walk away, Owen grabbed his hand in a cold, shaky embrace.

"Please, Ianto. I can't give you what he can; not now I'm like this, but I can give you more, so much more. I can give you..." But what? Life? He couldn't, not now. What the bloody hell had Jack f-ing Harkness done to him? So much more than taken away his mindless shags; he'd stolen his upper hand, crippled him of every chance he'd ever had with Ianto. His advantage had been his life. The only thing Owen had that Jack didn't. But now that was gone. "I can give you," Owen continued, "everything I have left."

"You don't know how much you're offering me," Ianto replied, voice gentle, his voice audible. "You also don't know how much I want to accept." Owen must have looked disbelieving, because Ianto added, "I do want to. But I can't. I'm sorry. I just can't. Offer your everything to someone who deserves it. I wish I could be that person."

"So now it's the infamous 'You're too good for me' act, is it?" Owen was outraged; he couldn't put up with this _bullshit_. "Love me, don't love me, but don't pretend you give a shit when you don't. Don't I deserve a little more than that?"

Ianto took each blow dubiously; he knew he had it coming, knew he deserved it. "You deserve so much more, Owen. She loves you," the Welshman added, softly, "don't waste that; don't throw it away."

"Why do I feel like you're making all the choices for me? Instead, I have to throw you away?" Owen countered. Without thinking, he added, "Oh wait, my mistake. You have to have had something to lose it, don't you?"

Ianto finally looked defeated. Eyes sunken, heart heavy, he said, "Yeah. You took the words right out of my mouth."

And with that, he turned and fled the archives.

Owen would have cried, if he'd had the tears.


	22. Chapter 22

**So, I'm really sorry about so many things, as I have said so many times before - which I am also sorry for. The fact that this chapter is late - has it seriously been a MONTH? - but also the fact that this chapter is awful - no kidding, trust me - and the fact that this chapter is un-beta'd - now, you don't have me to blame for that one. Aimee said that she'd be back on the job in July, but no news yet! :(**

**Thanks so much for reading - those of you who still are, it means a lot. But reviews are dropping, and reviews make me type faster...but, it's your choice, of course! :) thank you! xx**

"Yeah...Uh...I mean, you didn't say anything before, and then, suddenly I'm dying, and it's like, "I love you." That's not love, Tosh. That's grief. You're losing something, so suddenly you desperately desire it, textbook response."

_Believe it, please believe it. Don't love me. I don't deserve it_. Owen stopped himself when he realised how much like Ianto – just his name, those two syllables tugged on his unbeating heart, in ways he didn't know his heart could twist – he sounded. He realised, this bitter sweet love triangle was never going to stop. Someone, somewhere, sometime would always be hurting – most probably him. Maybe he _did_ deserve to hurt – never speaking his mind in the ways he truly wanted to, filling silences with insults because he was so wound up inside, shagging Gwen because it was better than being alone – though every touch screamed Ianto's name, every kiss he wished was with the Welshman.

And now Tosh was hurting, right in front of his eyes and he couldn't stop it. He realised that, yeah, maybe Ianto had it tough, but he'd approached it in the wrong way. Owen – he was blunt and to the point. He didn't love Tosh, end of. He didn't stick around, linger like Ianto did long enough to actually _start_ to love Tosh. He could, if he wanted to. But there was only one he wanted, and he couldn't pretend he didn't ache for that one touch; he couldn't try and replace that ache. It would never stop.

The tech expert looked confused, disbelieving, almost _relieved_. Surely she felt better – coming out about it, forgetting the secrecy? Though, Owen had forced on her the idea of it just being grief when it obviously wasn't. "Yeah, but Owen I…don't go!" Tosh reached out as if to touch him – but who would want to, now? He couldn't even look in the mirror; he'd probably break it with self-loathing – as he started climbing the stairs.

_Never stop._

_It'll _never _stop_.

_So make it_.

"I'm just going to the toilet, all right!" Dropping his voice to a mutter, he added, "For crying out loud!"

"So...he just...blacked out?" Ianto improvised, trying to drain as much information from Jack as possible whilst sounding concerned, not desperate.

The Captain surveyed the man in front of him over the rim of his coffee cup, before taking a long sip. Gulping it down, the heat of it burning his throat, but the fiery pain was barely noticeable – Jack was too preoccupied with the Welshman. He saw straight through his lover's façade of calm, and knew he was all ready to split open on the inside. One touch, one wrong word could cause him to break apart.

"Looks like it." Jack replied, shortly. He swirled the remains of his coffee around in the bottom of his mug, before looking straight into his partner's eyes, and whispering, "Why don't you ask me what you really want to?"

Ianto sighed, considering denying it, maybe coming up with some excuse, even just randomly stripping to avoid the truth of the matter – but what good would that bring? "I...Is he okay?"

Jack sighed; he wished he could answer truthfully, but he didn't know how. Mentally, Owen was shattered, physically, he was dead and honestly? There was no going back – Jack had come to terms to the fact that this was the end of the road. Some people couldn't be saved – that didn't make it any easier, but there was no other way. "I don't know. Martha's scans come up blank. No one has any idea what to do, or how to save him."

"There..." Ianto took a deep breath, praying he was wrong but ultimately knowing that this was it. The end. "There's nothing you can do, is there?"

Jack, eyeing Ianto's response carefully, but desperate to give him the truth, dutifully shook his head. "No, Ianto, this is it." He reached out across the desk, offering a hand, which his lover took. "If it helps, I'm sorry."

Ianto's head was hung, but he managed to nod. Choked, he replied, "I know."

The Captain looked down at their interlinked fingers; contact in the workplace –well, at least with other people around, when they were alone it was a whole different story – was unusual, but Jack was grateful that Ianto was letting himself be comforted. No matter how he tried to denounce himself as 'undeserving,' no one _deserved_ to go through hell alone.

Deciding to push his luck, the older man edged round the desk, hand still joined with Ianto's. The Welshman didn't seem to notice until Jack knelt down beside him. He gave a short wince of pain as the muscles in his knees contracted, which, of course, Ianto _did_ notice.

He smiled down at Jack through his tears. "You're getting old," he whispered.

"You don't say," The Captain replied, jokingly. Ianto gave a short chuckle – but Jack saw straight through it. He'd pulled this façade many times himself; laughing because it was easier than crying. Easier than giving in to the pain and letting it consume you.

Wishing someone had done this to him when Jack had been alone, the older man pulled Ianto out of his seat, encircling him in a bone-crushing hug that the Welshman would normally be opposed to. But now he just clung to his lover, every inch of loneliness and ache soaking Jack's shirt in a heart-twisting melt down.

"Jack?" He eventually mumbled into his lover's chest.

"Mmm?"

"This suit's gunna crease."

The Captain let out a breathy laugh, causing Ianto to shiver subconsciously. "Let it."

Ianto was about to protest further, when suddenly, the door behind them opened, Martha rushing inside. The medic was a whirlwind of despair and confusion. Ianto quickly let go of Jack, smoothing his precious suit, and wiping his face quickly. He breathed out with an air of professionalism, turning to face Martha, cool façade back in perfect place.

"Have you seen Owen?" The doctor squeaked, face panic-stricken and silently apologetic to disrupt the 'moment' that the two men were sharing.

"He was with Toshiko," Jack replied, calmly, not bothering to hide the wet patch staining his chest, much to Ianto's frustration. The Welshman raised an eyebrow as Martha's face fell, more curious than he really should be.

"The energy in him just went off the scale."

Owen rested his head on the lab table, silently collecting his thoughts. There was just _so much_. As if being stuck in the sick love triangle was bad enough when he was _alive_, now he had to deal with unreciprocated feelings with an unbeating heart and unmoving blood. How was that still even possible?

_It's not_, his brain screamed, but the constant ache in his cold heart was un-ignorable.

It never _stopped_.

He could deal with being alone – but the constant what-if, despite his current physical state would never go away. How could he ever be content again?

A whisper, a moment whipped past him, causing him to stir from his trans-like state. It was indescribable, pulling cords of electricity from him that not even Ianto could extract. The tips of his cold fingers tingled as the whisper arose again, this time clearer but still he couldn't make out what it was saying. More distorted words hissed through the air, Owen turned to try and make his tormentor seen.

With no prevail; Owen tried to focus on his thoughts.

Home in on Ianto, he was normal, he was human, there was no voice, it was all in his head...

But it wasn't. It was real, it was there; it was everywhere.

When the darkness entered his body, he felt nothing. No love...but no pain. If this was the way to let go of Ianto, he would take it.


	23. Chapter 23

**FINALLY - now this chapter is beta'd, so if it's crap...well, I really have no excuse. Enjoy! :) Thanks to Aimee for...well, being awesome. And the boy advice. And the bath of hurtness. Which has no room for love. (Don't ask!) PLEASE review! Pressing one little button could do wonders for the self esteem. If we could get up to 100 reviews, I promise an update within a week + a chapter dedication for all of you lovely reviews AND a fluffy comfort oneshot between Jack and Ianto that is a companion to this fic, because although angst is dramatic, it does get a little...intense. So if you want all that, then PLEASE review! Thanks so much xx**

Tosh was sat at her desk, not wanting to be interrogated but getting it anyway. Over _Owen_. Owen, who'd thrown her feelings to one side and denounced them as grief. It really showed, she realised, how little he cared. How little he saw her. Anyone else would have seen it straight away. But he'd overlooked it. How could he?

A grief-stricken Ianto, an anxious Martha and a masterful Jack stood over her. She'd never exactly _liked_ Martha, but especially not now. How was Toshiko supposed to know that Owen didn't need to pee? She hadn't thought anything of it – stupidly, sure. But who did this Martha think she was?

But Ianto – so clearly broken, destroyed inside. Again, Owen's doing. She hadn't quite worked it out, but there was definitely _something_ there, _something_ between them. Some small, undetected thing that was so clearly un-ignorable at the same time as it was so unable to be followed through.

And Jack – so...defensive. Torn between wanting to protect Owen but at the same time, wanting to get the medic as far away from his young lover as humanly possible. Toshiko could understand Jack being so protective; how could anyone let Ianto go?

Gwen was sat in the corner, silently crying down the phone to Rhys, who she could hear from here was trying to comfort her. But it wasn't Gwen's ear-piercing wail that she let out on a more frequent occasion nowadays, as an attention seeker. This was a heartbroken, pleading, desperate cry. The cry of a lost one. Maybe Gwen and Owen had grown closer in their short time together than anyone would have ever imagined.

Tosh didn't even notice the conversation going on around her until she heard it fall quiet momentarily.

"This is Owen," Jack conceded, after a few moments of awkward silence. "It's not like he's dangerous."

Ianto's head whipped round at the word – _dangerous_? There were many things Owen was – insensitive, hypocritical, never satisfied, desperate, secretly so needy... – but dangerous? There was no way, and that was coming from someone who, in the last couple of weeks, had gotten to know Owen inside out. He was no threat, and he never would be.

"You sure about that?" Martha replied without missing a beat.

Ianto's head was starting to spin; Owen was _Owen_. He hadn't suddenly changed, except for the...okay, he'd changed. But that still didn't make him a threat. Jack seemed as put out by the idea as Ianto was.

"Meaning?" The Captain asked, shortly, hurrying towards the cog door. Ianto fought the urge to follow him, feet itching to move, fingers screaming out to grab his coat and run after his lover.

"You had the power to bring people back to life," _Like this? Who would want to be brought back like this?_ "And you never told UNIT. Why?" Martha challenged, attempting a Ianto-style singular eyebrow raise. However, the skill and natural ability were not there, and she failed with a sigh of frustration, settling for both eyebrows raised. It was still suitably intimidating.

Jack's coat swirled as he turned round, hard expression firmly fixed. "They would have wanted to use it." He spared Ianto a quick glance, face softening a fraction in a silent goodbye.

"I'm on your side, Jack, but Owen's just had a surge of energy that we can't  
begin to understand. The cells in his body are being transformed into something else. He's about 50% human. And that 50% is dead. We need to stop thinking about him as Owen."

If words could cut, Ianto Jones would have been ripped clean apart. Of course he was _Owen_, he could still _love_, even if he couldn't breathe. Yeah, he was dead. But he _was_ Owen; the teasing, flirting, brilliant medic that tore Torchwood apart the same way he held it together – by being brutally honest and never hiding anything. By loving and being loved despite how much it hurt him. Carrying on when he was alone. Loving Ianto endlessly. All of that _made_ Owen human. How could he be anything else?

Of course – no human eye could see this. They would miss the churning of Ianto's stomach and the ache in his heart because no one could _see_ it. Maybe it wasn't even that he kept everything so hidden, it was almost more the fact that no one ever looked close enough to notice.

Jack just looked blank; hurt and confused and mixed up inside. On one hand, he was screaming that of course Owen was a threat – the public's safety was his biggest priority and he'd do anything to protect them. But, on the other hand...it was just Owen. Owen, who loved Ianto, who shagged anything that moved, who'd...died for them. Didn't he deserve a little bit of faith?

"I'll find him." Locking his eyes briefly with Ianto's in a silent promise, Jack fled the building.

The alcohol wasn't working, Owen concluded after the sixth glass. The darkness was gone and replaced with an ache the size of Oxford, drumming through his brain and pulsing in his un-moving blood and staining his un-beating heart.

Everything – the dancers, the people on the streets, the alcohol, the music, the _possibilities_ of a place like this; it just all seemed so pointless. So, he could get laid. What would be the point? Another mindless shag. That was all it would – could – ever be. It wasn't just being dead, even ever since he'd fallen for Ianto, it was like he'd put on a new pair of glasses. He was seeing things clearly. Normality – as unlikely as the idea was in Torchwood – could be nice. If only the person he loved could see that.

"Smile," came a voice from behind Owen, "it won't kill you!" She – halo wings and skimpy outfit broadcast her as a hen night girl – assured him, giggling.

Owen just rolled his eyes at the irony of it, turning his face back to stare the even more ironic picture of the grim reaper sat on the bar. Resting his chin on his hand and his elbow on the bar, he tried to block out her one-octave-too-high voice.

But she was having none of it, pressing herself right into Owen and whispering in his ear, "You're gorgeous, you are."

_Well_, Owen thought. Who could argue with that?

Barely thinking – the alcohol must have taken _some_ effect – Owen grabbed the girl and kissed her. It felt so _wrong_. It wasn't even the stupid guilt that he felt because of Ianto, which was ridiculous if Owen counted their one-way relationship as anything worth thinking about. But it was that there was nothing – just nothing. Like kissing your grandma or hairy aunty; he felt nothing.

But the hen night girl clearly was expecting different, sliding her hands down the front of Owen's trousers to grasp at whatever she could find. Her face fell, disappointed. And seeing as Owen had found Ianto and Jack's "measurements" and laughed when he'd compared his size to theirs, he was sure it _wasn't _the size that was disappointing her. It was the fact that it wasn't _doing_ anything.

Nothing – not even a blip.

"Don't you like me?" The girl asked, pouting. The sight made Owen's stomach churn – and he wasn't even sure it could still do that.

"Get off me," He snarled, pushing her out of the way and slamming his fist back down on the bar. "No blood," he worked out. "Brilliant."

Turning, realising much too late that he'd had enough, Owen pushed his way through the crowds of people littering the "dance" – more like having sex in public and call it dancing – floor.

A few people called out to try and stop him, but the medic wouldn't stop. He had to get out of here, he had to...

Suddenly, a figure stepped in front of him. Captain Jack f-ing Harkness, coat swishing, the whole shebang. Fan-fucking-tastic. Come join the party.

Owen said about the thirtieth thing that came into his head, denouncing the other 29 too rude even for him to say in public. "How did you find me?"

Jack didn't even respond, just roughly grabbing Owen's wrist and yanking it up, displaying the wrist band the medic hadn't even noticed he was wearing. Crap. For want of something better to do, Owen pushed Jack backwards. The older man didn't even blink. It felt kinda good – stress relieving almost – so Owen did it again.

"Do you know what you've done?" The medic exploded, realising just how much he needed to do this – yell and scream so that some of the pain would go away. "You don't care about me. You brought me back for an alarm code!"

"That is not," Jack started, pausing momentarily as if in thought before continuing, "why I brought you back."

"Have you any idea what it means to know that your life is over?" Owen continued to rant. "That _THAT_ was it? That is Owen Harper's contribution to the world!" And a pretty crap contribution to the world at that. He hadn't even left behind anyone he would miss and who would miss him in return. Ianto would forget how he felt, move on. Tosh would get over him in no time. Gwen – well, she was never really _on_ him, was she? And Jack? He didn't give two fucks either way. Unless of course the fucks were with Ianto and Owen had to stand and watch. He was sure Jack would be more than happy to do that. "You idiot!"

Owen took a swing at Jack, only to miss when the Captain stepped aside. And was he..._smirking_? The medic didn't have time to check as Jack grabbed him and slammed him against the nearest bar, glass smashing as the two pieces of stone – because really, what _was _Owen anymore? Stone seemed pretty accurate... – collided.

Jack leant down and, almost in victory, muttered in Owen's ear, "Watch it."

If the bouncers hadn't pulled them apart at that very moment, Owen Harper could have killed Jack fucking Harkness, just to see that smirk wiped clean off his face. But this wasn't over – he had a Hell of a lot of time to wait around. Jack would pay for this, if it was the last thing Owen did. Then they would see how much Ianto wanted Jack, when he'd been exposed as the coward and liar that he really was. Oh yes, Owen thought, smirking. He would pay.

**Don't forget to review - oneshots + updates await! :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**So, this isn't great but it's the best I could do - I wanted to get something up before I go on a three-day holiday to Devon tomorrow. Thank you for reading, faithful readers, and I really hope you can take the time to review, because it's lovely to know that people are still reading and still enjoying. Even if you're not enjoying, please tell me :) Just anything to let me know there ARE still readers, because I'm questioning the life of this story, because there have been next to no reviews recently, and that's FINE, I don't expect to be insanely popular but I don't want to write a story that no one is reading. If you are still reading and you DO still want more, please let me know so that I can continue writing, 'cos I would hate to see this story end. Thank you - this chapter is unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own and against my better judgement I STILL don't own Torchwood, yada yada yada :) . x**

2 hours later, and Jack Harkness' night wasn't looking up. Shoved into a cell with Owen Harper, who was still banging violently on the door, yelling and screeching for all he was worth. Jack wasn't sure what scared Owen more – being locked up, or being stuck with Jack for the next few hours.

The Captain could have done the selfish thing, announced his true rankings in Torchwood and be set free faster than he could wink at the cute police officer who'd put them in here. Jack shook his head, subconsciously. He was supposed to _stop_ doing that; Ianto had announced he was okay with it, but the older man knew this wasn't the case. He wondered when Ianto would stop lying about what bothered him – did he not know that Jack could see through any façade after the Lisa incident?

He probably underestimated Jack's feeling for him, _still_. After everything. But the immortal couldn't really blame him, the idea of Jack Harkness committing seemed near impossible. But, despite the unlikely nature of the situation, it had happened. Again.

Jack was barely aware of the fact that Owen was now trying to kick the door down. Sighing, he realised he should step in before the medic really did himself some damage.

"Enough!" The Captain shouted, in his best 'commanding' voice, as Ianto fondly called it. He watched as Owen stopped trying to break the door down, and instead came to a rest against it. "You're dead!" Shooting him a 'no-shit' look, Owen was now coming closer, going to sit down next to Jack, despite the older man's confusion and surprise at this action. "You break your ankle, what are the chances that it'll knit back together?" Trying to lighten the mood, he continued, "You want to add a wheelchair to your prob..."

He broke off as Owen decided against the seat next to Jack, and settled on the bench opposite. As the medic sat down, his stomach gargled horribly.

"Problems?" Jack finished, weakly.

Owen twisted his hips, experimentally, still staring down at his flat stomach. It sloshed about, the noise enough to make you...well, vomit. Not that he could now. Unless...

The younger man met the elder's gaze across the room. Owen saw Jack's face change as the Captain realised what the problem was. The medic recognised that look. It was the _eww_ look. Owen nearly smiled.

Owen's heart sank a little more as he realised that Jack could even pull off the 'upside down' look. No wonder, he thought, bitterly.

The older man stared at him, trying and failing to mask his look of disgust, from his seat. Despite Owen's anger at the immortal at this present moment, he found himself growing ever more uncomfortable underneath his gaze, even if he was upside down against a prison wall. He thought of something to say, and eventually came out with, "I forgot...my digestive system's shut down."

Nothing.

"That alcohol I drank is, uh, just going to sit in my stomach; it won't go anywhere."

Jack continued to look bored, but fixed Owen with an answer of, "Can't you just stick your fingers down your throat?"

"I'm dead," The medic reminded him, "it's just another one of those things. My gag reflex – I lost it in the process."

_Of course,_ Jack Harkness thought, sighing quietly.

Owen started to wiggle around, just wanting the alcohol to come out. Jack wasn't the only one uncomfortable with the current situation. "Hang on, hang on...if I can just...line up my oesophagus, I..."

Another quick slosh and gurgle from Owen's stomach, and suddenly the surprisingly coloured liquid came shooting out of his mouth, horribly. Jack immediately dragged his feet up onto the seat with the rest of him.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, clearly revolted. "Oh, that is the single most disgusting thing I have ever seen." The immortal paused, reviewing this. "And _I_ know disgusting."

Owen promptly stopped throwing up, bringing his legs down to stand on them again, shakily. Straightening up, he let out a fart. Resisting the urge to laugh at the look on Jack's face, he apologised quickly. "Sorry, Jack, uh, I forgot, that goes on for a while after death."

As Owen let another rip, Jack nearly threw up himself, exclaiming, "For God's sake, let me out!"

Owen looked out of the cell window, wistfully continuing, unaware of Jack's outburst, "But eventually, that'll stop too. I will fart my last fart. God, I'm gunna miss farting, and... sex."

"Sex more than farting, I hope," Jack quipped, smiling slightly, despite the residual awkwardness and anger that hang in the air.

"Oh, you take these things for granted," Owen continued, sounding uncharacteristically heartfelt, "it's only when they're slipping away that you realise how amazing they are." The medic looked down at the cell floor, eyes filling with tears that weren't there. "This could be the last time I see those flecks or...you know, feel these bricks underneath my hands." He ran his palms over the walls, wistfully.

"_Only in suffering do we recognise beauty._" Jack quoted, slowly. He stopped, readying himself to ask his next question. "But...Owen, this isn't about the bricks or the flecks, is it? Those things _aren't_ amazing, they're just there. What's so amazing that you've only just realised? Because I know you," a familiar-sounding snort erupted from Owen, and Jack chuckled briefly before continuing, "as much as you wish I didn't. You _can_ recognise true beauty. And it's not here. So what is it?"

"It's..." Owen started, but stopped himself just as quickly. He couldn't talk to Jack about how he'd only just realised how much he'd left behind. He couldn't speak about Ianto to the Welshman's very own lover. He sat down opposite Jack, trying to come up with something logical to finish his sentence with.

"Is it Tosh?" Jack asked, gently.

Owen closed his eyes, counting to ten in his head. _If only it was Tosh_. If only it was that simple. It wasn't, like Hell, he wished it was. But it was Ianto, it would always be Ianto. "It's him." Owen whispered. He knew he didn't have to specify exactly who, Jack would know.

Jack let out a sharp breath. "Oh." The immortal said, shortly. He cleared his throat before carrying on. "Okay. But...Owen, that passed, you know it did."

"You aren't _listening_ to me, Jack!" The medic suddenly exploded, having to hold on very tight to his seat to remain in it. "I said you take these things for granted – you take _him_ for granted! You always have. You always will. I've always seen how amazing he is, but you never will. Because he's just another to you, isn't he?" Owen realised that Jack was still holding his gaze, but didn't look angry. Just...disappointed, seemingly in himself. "Just another lover. Who you will pass by – but if he'd have chosen me..." Owen stopped, realising that neither option was looking good for Ianto.

"This would have broken him," Jack finished for him. "I know it would have, it nearly has. I think...I think I'm the only reason he hasn't given up on himself."

Owen tried to sigh, then remembered that he no longer could. "It would have been kinder to let me die." He told the immortal, who _did_ sigh.

"I know. But...I thought there was a chance. I prayed there was a chance that maybe...maybe this would all go away. But I've only made things worse."

"You fucked up royally, Harkness. You always have done. Just...when I'm gone, _finally,_ don't let yourself go back to the way you were. That in itself nearly killed Ianto. If you'd have taken better care of him, none of this would have happened. I wouldn't be in love with him, he'd never have looked at me twice." Owen conceded.

"I..." Jack paused, and Owen thought he was trying to come up with some kick-ass insult. He readied himself for it, and looked up in confusion when Jack simply finished the sentence with, "know. It's...difficult, Owen, things are..._complicated_." After seeing the medic's look of disbelief, he continued, "More so than you'd believe."

"What's so complicated?" Owen asked, bitterly. "He chose you, I have to move on and you get the thing we both wanted. You've won."

"And what's the prize, Owen?" Jack asked, speaking with so much fire in his voice that Owen wriggled backwards in his seat. "Watching him grow old and die, me staying the same? Watching his heart break as each year passes? Or maybe even losing him before that, to Torchwood? With _me_ responsible, Owen, _me._"

"What do you want me to say?" The younger man responded, immediately. "That I wish he'd chosen me? I do. I do wish that, for his sake, for mine, even for _yours_. But...I suppose it's better – for you – to have had him like this...than never to have had him. At least he's still yours. He was never mine."

"He's yours for all the right reasons, Owen." Jack replied, quietly. The medic didn't understand but didn't have to time to question it. The older man cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable, before standing up and banging on the door himself. "Come on," he said, smiling weakly. "Let's go home."

Owen left the prison smiling, the ache in his un-beating heart lessened just slightly.

_Reviews are amazing :)_


	25. Chapter 25

**This chapter is dedicated to Ianto Jones - not surprisingly - but today would have been his birthday, so...yeah. Was gunna post a oneshot, but I thought this would be better. I really hope you enjoy, and please review! :D xxxxx**

Jack made a point to drop Owen off at his apartment on the way home from the station. He figured that the medic needed some time away from Ianto, away from Torchwood, to collect his thoughts. And man, he had a lot to collect.

He told Owen not to come into work the next day, not the day after that if he didn't feel ready. Owen had replied bitterly that he had nothing better to do, and to expect him in the day after next. Jack had laughed, half-heartedly. Some things would never change.

The immortal had returned to the Hub immediately. He prayed Martha would have gone back to her hotel, that Gwen would have gone home to Rhys...and maybe Tosh would have gone to see Owen? It would be good for him to have someone right now. Even if it wasn't the one Owen wanted.

But no such luck. Tosh was still at the Hub with Ianto, ploughing through a mountain of work surrounding Owen's death. It had always surprised Jack how much paperwork was involved with death – reports, filing, surveillance, progress charts and further action plans.

It was plain ridiculous. But what was more ridiculous was that Tosh was still working on it. He sent her home immediately, and with a sympathetic look at Ianto, the tech expert left. Before she'd reached the door, Jack had stopped her, whispering one word to tell her where to go.

She'd nodded, of course; she never passed down an opportunity to spend time with Owen, and Jack had thanked her.

The older man turned back to Ianto, speaking to him for the first time since entering the Hub. "How are you?"

"I've been better," the Welshman replied, honestly. "Trying not to think about it. About everything, really. I was about to go out and get drunk. Figured it always worked for Owen..." His voice cracked on the final word, and so did Jack's heart.

The immortal reached for Ianto's hand, accessing his reaction to being touched before he did anything further. There were times when Ianto _hated _affection. Jack hoped this wasn't one of them – he needed to hold Ianto as much as Ianto needed to be held.

In a split second, the Welshman had come closer and thrown his arms around the Captain's neck, up on tiptoe to nuzzle his face under Jack's jaw. Jack held Ianto tightly, before lifting the man up in a bridal hold – much to Ianto's, frankly girlish, squeals of protest – and settling on the sofa with him.

Jack had always been astounded at Ianto's lack of weight. The Welshman was sat on his lap, arms still wound around Jack's neck, but the older man could barely feel him. He prayed that he was still eating. At times like this, he tended not to, something which infuriated Jack as much as it concerned him. Did he not understand how important it was to the Captain for Ianto to be healthy, to be well, to be _alive_?

He'd never fully understood how important he was, Jack realised with a sigh.

Jack tightened his grip around his young lover, holding back a growl when he felt the sharp bones of Ianto's ribcage poking through his creamy skin. The older man kissed the top of Ianto's head absentmindedly, keeping his firm hold on the man.

"Is this all Owen?" Jack asked, softly, almost afraid of the answer. "Or is it something else?"

"I wish I could say the latter," Ianto sighed, not removing his mouth from Jack's prominent jaw line. "But...he's just...got inside my head, Jack. I feel so damn _guilty_ all the time. Maybe...maybe if things were different between us, he wouldn't have been so quick to offer his life in exchange for ours. Maybe he'd have held onto himself more, because he'd have had something to live for."

"It's _not your fault_, Yan," Jack insisted, hating to see his lover so distressed. "If things _had_ have been different, then he'd have been more willing to protect you. He'd have dropped everything to take a bullet for you. He would have been careless. Fearless. That's not what we need. We need someone who feels the fear and jumps anyway. He would have had no grounding."

Ianto visibly relaxed, seeing Jack's logic. He removed his face front he crook of Jack's neck, looking into his lover's eyes, seemingly...confused? "Does wisdom _really_ improve with age, or have you always been able to spin crap like that?" Ianto asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"If by 'spinning crap' you mean having an uncanny way with words, then yes. I can spin crap like you wouldn't believe."

"I'm sure I can," Ianto replied, smiling. "I bet you've got a whole catalogue of chat-up lines and crap you shoot at anyone who'll listen."

"I'm not interested in anyone," the immortal growled in Ianto's ear, making the younger man squirm, giggling was great to hear. "I'm a one man woman..." Jack's eyes widened as he realised his mistake, and Ianto laughed gleefully, falling backwards into the great, muscled cavern of Jack's chest. He looked like a little kid, and Jack couldn't have been happier. Unless, of course they were both naked. But the Captain swallowed his shallow tendencies and just enjoyed the moment. "I _mean_," Jack tried to recover, "I'm a one man...man." He grinned. "I like the sound of that."

"Mmm," Ianto agreed, snuggling back into Jack, sliding his arms around him squeezing him tight. "It has a certain ring to it, doesn't it?"

"I...Ianto..."

"Mmm?" The Welshman repeated, sleepily.

Jack decided against what he wanted to say most, and settled for his second priority. "You are okay, aren't you? Like...really okay. Not just 'fine.' But we're gunna be okay, aren't we?"

Ianto nodded against Jack's chest, happily. "Of course," he sighed, "we always are. We're strong. We'll be okay, I promise."

That was all Jack really needed to hear. Well...

"I love you," he blurted, suddenly. _Oh holy fucking shit._

If Ianto's eyes had gotten any bigger, Jack was in danger of being poked in the face with one of them. His mouth dropped open, face paling impossibly.

It wasn't exactly the reaction Jack had hoped for, though he could learn to live with it, he supposed. It was kinda cute. But then again, Ianto always was, normally without even realising. Which often just made him cuter.

A aggravatingly silent cute thing.

"Ianto?" Jack tried not to get impatient, but his temperamental side took over momentarily. "This is either the part where you slap me, or we make out."

Still nothing.

"Well..this is awkward," Jack babbled, without thinking, "well, I suppose it wasn't awkward until I pointed out that it was awkward, well...maybe it was for you. I don't know, I suppose I'm not the most perceptive of people when it comes to emotions. Though, I seem to be able to read you pretty well. But I suppose from the way you're looking at me maybe I don't? Nope, didn't think so either." Jack finished when Ianto was _still_ silent, looking at him incredulously. Could it really have been that much of a surprise?

Apparently so, if the silence – _still!_ – was anything to go by.

Jack was fidgeting now. "I'm thinking I should just go. Yep, okay. Well, I suppose..."

He was cut off by – was that a _tie_? – shoved into his mouth. Frowning around the material, all Jack could do was watch as Welshman pushed himself away from the immortal and ran across the Hub, straight into Jack's office. Clearly, he'd forgotten about the smooth panel of clear glass that ran along one of the walls of the office.

Jack watched with guarded amusement, spitting the tie out of his mouth in surprise as Ianto bounded around the office, leaping up and down and grinning wildly. The older man strongly suspected that Ianto had gotten drunk _before_ Jack had arrived. Regardless, his reaction to Jack's confession was priceless.

He continued to watch as Ianto composed himself, smoothing down his now tie-less outfit. He'd stopped jumping up and down, and was now settling for just grinning. He ran a hand through his adorably mussed-up hair, and left the office. Jack wondered when he'd dumped his shoes in favour for socked feet, but overlooked it as Ianto walked towards him, smiling sweetly. The Welshman stopped just short of him, bending over to kiss Jack's lips chastely. "Why, thank you, Sir." He said, simply – though Jack didn't miss the way his tongue rolled across his teeth on the 'Sir' – before grabbing his jacket from the side, and making to leave the Hub.

Jack jumped up indignantly as Ianto continued across the floor, back turned. _Ass wiggling_.

Oh, two could play at that game. Jack grinned as he chased Ianto across the Hub. As he reached him, the immortal wrapped two strong, muscular arms around his waist from behind, lifting him up and spinning him round. "Tell me you love me!" He commanded, trying to sound manly at the same time as making it clear that he was joking. Of course, he _did_ want Ianto to say it, but he didn't want the Welshman to feel pressured.

"Never!" Ianto squealed, but Jack knew he was joking, and he simply spun him faster. "Okay! Okay! I love you! I love you, you Goddamn fool! Put me down!"

Ianto was set back on his feet, giddy with adrenaline and the dizzying lightness of heart at being _loved_. Without a second thought, he flung himself back into Jack's arms, crying, "I love you so much, you big fool!"

Well, really, what more could Jack ask for?


	26. Chapter 26

**[A/N: I really hope you enjoy this chapter, it's un-beta'd and I've tried to skip through the events of Gwen's wedding as much as possible b'cos you were all there. You know, you saw it. But had to do a little section on the dance, I just had to :D Really nervous about posting this chapter, I've re-written it so many times. I'd love to know what you guys think, so please review. The end is almost in sight, let's make this a home-stretch with as many reviews as possible! Thank you! :D]**

Jack Harkness cracked his knuckles, wearily, and let his mind wander across the events of the day. Nostrovite. Alien baby. Ianto's dad. Owen's liver – though when that had popped up he had yet to remember. Rhys' mum's perfume. Gwen going badass with the hidden gun. The broken chainsaw. Saving the day. Then retconning everyone so that they never remembered.

Well, it was all in a day's work.

The Captain chuckled as he recalled the look on Rhys' face when Jack had made to leave with Gwen; it had been priceless. Of course, she knew he would never do such a thing...well, not unless Ianto had been involved too, but that was a long-suppressed fantasy.

He vaguely noticed Owen asking Tosh to dance. They moved together for all of two seconds, the medic's eyes never leaving Ianto as the couple swayed. Jack to hand it to him, the man was persistent if little else. The immortal was delighted that the Welshman's eyes never met with Owen's; Ianto continued to look steadily at Jack, allowing himself to smile slightly. His smile was met with a grin that proceeded to melt Ianto's insides.

As more of a hint-drop than anything else, Jack rose from his seat, scanning the floor quickly for one Mrs Rhys Williams. He was reluctant to pull her from her dance with her husband, but Gwen was an important person in his life. He'd never forgive himself if he didn't dance with her at her wedding.

Making idle quips about doing Ianto and saving the world, which of course he completely intended to do, most likely in that order, Jack smiled at the normality of it all. They'd undoubtedly be back to crazy alien chasing the next day, but for once, it was just nice to be _normal_. To laugh, and dance and drink. To flirt with Gwen but then laugh about it with her later.

He meant it when he said he'd miss her; Gwen Cooper was an admirable figure. Her ability to – sometimes aggravatingly – care unconditionally about someone, anyone who needed caring about, and that someone was predominantly Jack. Her smile, her sense of humour, her capability to worm her way out of awkward situations. They were all beautiful parts of her. They were great friends, and when her time came to leave Torchwood, she'd hold a small cavern of Jack's aching heart. They all would.

But, despite loving Gwen the way he did, Jack Harkness was shocked, _delighted_ when Ianto cut into their dance. The younger man seamlessly moulded into Jack's arms, smiling shyly.

Ianto's breath ghosted across the Captain's ear as he whispered, "Everyone's staring."

Jack looked around, amused more than anything else. But he was a little surprised when he noticed Ianto wasn't exaggerating. It wasn't just Owen's laser-glare, it was Tosh and Rhys, and the remainders of Rhys and Gwen's family who had managed to fight the retcon for this long. They still managed to look shocked through sleep-ridden eyes. "They're just jealous," Jack decided. "Who wouldn't be? We're gorgeous."

Ianto snorted at this, but managed a smile as he replied, "Will your ego be irreversibly damaged if I argue?"

"Yes."

"Then I absolutely agree."

Jack smiled back at the Welshman. He was pleasantly surprised at this public display of affection; he never had Ianto pegged as the type. "Owen is going to kill you." He warned Ianto, fondly.

The younger man hesitated only slightly before replying, "Let him. It's worth it, to do this."

"I didn't know you danced." Jack said, honestly.

Ianto laughed, lightly. "I don't. I don't think I've slow danced in two years. But it's not exactly something you forget how to do. Lisa was never really that into it, so..." Jack was baffled by Ianto's ability to bring Lisa up in conversation. Of course, the immortal himself could do it about any of his past lovers, but that had taken centuries of practise. Jack had underestimated how strong Ianto really was. To only have cracked a few times under the weight of every burden he had to bear was far beyond admirable. It was incredible.

"You should have seen the dance halls of the nineteen thirties," Jack replied, wistfully, smiling at dug-up memories; they weren't all bittersweet. "They were amazing; taught me everything I know."

Ianto just grinned, tucking his face further into the hollow of Jack's neck. He was surprised at how easy this was, being domestic and loving with Jack. He'd always bookmarked them as fuck buddies, he hadn't realised that they _could_ do this. He hadn't realised the variety of things they could be, if they worked hard enough.

"Have you ever been married before?" The words were out of Ianto's mouth before his brain had time to process them. Shit, shit, _shit_!

Jack smiled, holding Ianto a tiny bit closer. "Yeah," he replied, a little wistfully.

"When?" And again, with the word-vomit. "Sorry, Jack, you don't have to..." Ianto tried to save his small slip-of-tongue, but the immortal didn't seem to mind.

"It's fine. It's nice talking about it, sometimes," he continued to smile, bravely. "Twice. Once before, and once after."

The Welshman didn't have to ask to know that Jack meant before and after his immortality. "Did we look half as attractive when we can't live as long as you?" Ianto joked, trying to lighten the situation, if that was at all possible in a situation as surreal as this.

"Quite the opposite," Jack answered, honestly. "But...I would never, not again. It hurt too much. Getting so close to someone."

Ianto nodded, not wanting to push the situation, but pleased that Jack had been willing to open up. "Understandable. What about before..."

"She was a _doll_," Jack laughed, "but she didn't like me half as much after she found me kissing her brother."

The Welshman stared, open-mouthed, feet failing to move him for a moment. "You did _what_?"

"Yeah, that was the general reaction I got. Being the homophobic generation they were." They resumed their dance, Ianto a little half-heartedly, more intent on listening to Jack than slow-dancing. "We couldn't really divorce, it was still frowned upon, being on your own, especially by her family. We drifted apart, and one day I just never came to see her. I was living on an airship at the time – don't ask," he added after seeing Ianto's expression, "after the Doctor, I just left. Never saw her again. She probably died in the bombings." He sighed, overcome with memories.

"You _so_ deserve your own TV show," Ianto said, not entirely sarcastically.

"It would have to be X-Rated." Jack reminded him, smiling at the thought.

"I would _not_ have sex with you on television."

"Not even when no one's around?"

"_When_ is no one around?"

"Those evenings in the hothouse..."

"I'll consider it. But you better mean no one. Especially not Gwen. And _not_ on TV."

"Then what's the point of having a TV show?"

"Fair point," Ianto allowed, smiling at their easy banter. He'd missed it.

"Me too," Jack said, as if he'd read Ianto's thoughts. He probably had.

That night, when Jack sought out the pictures of his wedding in his office, he didn't do it alone. Ianto was there to exclaim "ooh-don't-you-look-handsome!" every so often, and smile at his bride and hold him when Jack remembered too much. Just like he always had.

The soft promise of Ianto's beating heart lulled him to sleep. Just like it always did.

And Jack's quiet mumble of "love you always" went blissfully unnoticed by Ianto. Just like it always would.


	27. Chapter 27

**Thank you so much for reading, only 3 or so chapters of this story left! :( Please review, it means the world to me. :) xxxx**

Chapter 27

After having to practically _drag_ Gwen and Owen to the cinema, you'd have thought Ianto Jones would have been able to bask in the glory of finally getting them there, and that he would be able to sit back and enjoy the film.

But, unfortunately, no. Of course not.

First of all, he was _exhausted_. Not just tired, or in need of a good night's sleep. No, he was dead on his feet – though the expression still sent shivers down his spine as he was suddenly very aware of the extremely dead man sitting next to him. He'd had to work double time to cover Gwen's absence – as if it was possible for him to work more than he already did – which had nearly knocked him clean off his feet. Tosh was a little more reluctant to stand in for him, which neither surprised Ianto nor wounded him. It was completely expected, he'd be the same if Tosh had gone after Jack.

But it left him and Jack with the brunt of the extra work. Owen called off every extra shift he was tried to talk into working with a simple "I need time to get over being dead." And really, how can you argue with that?

Ianto and Jack would work late into the night, finishing paperwork and taking the late-night – or more frequently these days, early morning – rift alerts. They had to look after the weevils, clean the Hub, order takeaway, retcon bystanders and deal with grieving relatives from selective cases.

It was draining, to say the least.

They'd both collapse onto Jack's bed in the waking hours of the morning, snatching half hours of sleep whenever they could – even if it was just fifteen minutes at their desks, with no cushions except from the piles of unwieldy paperwork which seemed to be _everywhere_ nowadays.

Then, when their co-workers barged into the Hub in the morning, requesting coffee and wanting to know what had happened the night before, the whole process started over again. Once Gwen was back, the intensity of this routine started to wear thin, but the former policewoman had made it clear that she was settling into married life, and the ratio of Torchwood to Rhys was rapidly improving in Rhys' favour.

So, sat in a comfy chair in a dark room was the closest to comfort that Ianto Jones had had in about two weeks. He found his eyes trying to slide closed every so often, but he fought the annoyingly tight hold sleep had over him, instead focussing on the film.

But, of course, that didn't last long.

His mind kept side-tracking back to Jack, unsurprisingly. Though the images were there, right in front of Ianto, flicking past his eyes enigmatically, but he couldn't _see_ them. He kept on thinking of Jack, of how much he meant to him, and just him, everything about him...

He was vaguely aware of Gwen and Owen mumbling about the nature of the film – he shushed them half-heartedly, realising they were all ready to get up and go, but all Ianto could think about was Jack...until, he was there, right there on the screen.

What the bloody hell?

Ianto couldn't be sure if he'd actually seen it or not, his mind had been so fixed on Jack that he wouldn't be surprised if he had actually conjured up the image of his own accord.

But, no, he couldn't have because...there Jack was again. Very much real and very much there, on the screen. Pointing a _gun_ to his head?

Ianto sighed, melodramatically; all he'd wanted was _one_ trip to the cinema without anything Torchwood getting involved. He realised he'd been stupid to even expect that.

Switching into Torchwood mode quicker than slipping on a coat, Ianto gripped the seat in front of him as he continued to stare at the screen, silently urging Gwen and Owen not to leave.

"Wait!" he said, when they refused to stop trying to go. Only Gwen turned to look at him, Owen trying to look nonchalant whilst avoiding his eyes. He pointed at the screen, eyes following to focus on the pictures again. "I just saw Jack."

_That_ got the medics attention, and he turned to look at him with wide eyes. Gwen was looking along the rows of seats surrounding expectantly, as if half hoping that the Captain would be lounging in one of the extraordinarily comfy seats. "Where?" She asked, hopefully.

"In the film," he reinforced, inwardly rolling his eyes. Gwen and Owen don't take much convincing, both sinking back into their seats to watch the film.

There are jugglers, clowns, a creepy guy in a top hat – but no Jack.

"What are you talking about?" Owen asked, after just a few moments.

"I swear I saw him!" Ianto said, with enough authority in his voice to shut Owen up, the medic retreating back into the soft folds of his seats with a grumpy look threatening his features.

Gwen continued to look confused, but watched the film dutifully. However, a few minutes later, she started to get fidgety.

"Ian-to?" She called, irritatingly sing-song.

Ianto's teeth ground together in an effort to keep himself from yelling at her. "Wait. Just wait."

Gwen strummed her fingers on the seat in front unhelpfully as the images continued to run, eyes trained on the screen for any sign of Jack.

After just a few more images, the film sputtered, fading through the picture of the man with the top hat. The pianist stops playing, abruptly. A murmur swept over the audience, and Gwen and Owen looked at Ianto with a hint of annoyance.

"Come on," said Gwen, smiling gently at Ianto but rolling her eyes at Owen, who tried not to be too offended. He didn't want her insulting Ianto anymore than he wanted her insulting him, but he tried to let it go as best he could. He couldn't shake that protective, almost _possessive_ feeling that still clung to him whenever Ianto was concerned.

"Let's go." He replied, shortly, trying not to let his voice betray how he was feeling inside.

"Yes, come on," Gwen repeated, getting impatient. They stood up, quickly, getting ready to vacate the cinema with the rest of the audience, until they saw Ianto was still sitting. "Ianto, are you coming?"

The Welshman stood up slowly, watching as his two colleagues left, Owen sparing him a quick glance over his shoulder but nothing more.

Ianto didn't follow.

Guilt was over-riding him, eating away at his insides relentlessly, just _one_. Only _one_. One little boy, now an orphan, completely alone in the world. The same way Ianto himself had felt so many years previously.

Jack had assured him that it didn't matter, but he felt so responsible. He'd finally had it in his power to save everyone. They'd been able to, just once, to have no deaths. For once, everyone could have lived.

But they hadn't. Because of him.

It was approaching the end of the day, the sun was chasing the clouds across the skies of Cardiff, eventually sealing itself beyond the Plass, signalling the far too primitive sounding 'home time.'

Of course, Ianto Jones didn't leave. None of them did. He held back the tears threatening to fall, he bit his tongue, cutting short the screams he wished he could let out. Instead, he offered another round of coffee, and held back the sobs and the outbursts of self-pity until he could flee to the archives.

Ianto hid between the shelves, snivelling pathetically and wiping it on the small hanky he always kept in his pocket. He sniffed louder when he spotted a thin layer of dust collecting on the side of the shelf nearest to him, swiping his handkerchief along the wood half-heartedly.

He sighed, even he could see how obsessive his tendencies were, but he couldn't stop. Ianto stopped swiping the surface when he heard footsteps erupt around him. He wiped his tears errantly, not realising that it was on the back of his suit sleeve – if he had he would have had a small panic attack.

The owner of the reverberating footsteps stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself. Jack, of course. He took in Ianto's tear-tracked cheeks, and held out his arms in a silent promise.

No words were spoken as Ianto fell into Jack's arms, letting the sobs wrack out of him, one after one. They didn't let up for hours later, when they eventually collapsed on Jack's bed in a now-empty Hub.

Jack held his lover unusually tightly that night. He could feel a storm brewing, heading right for them. He'd have to hold on tight for the next few weeks – he couldn't bear the thought of letting Ianto go anytime soon.


	28. Chapter 28

**There's only a few more chapters left to conclude this story – I have felt so privileged to have been able to write it and share the experience with all my amazing readers. I love you all – please keep reviewing, maybe I can start a sequel? It depends on the demand for it, so if you guys want one, let me know! Also, in my book, this is still strictly Janto. But if any of you are wanting a tiny bit of Owento before the inevitable happens in the last episode, then let me know! Or if you feel strongly that Ianto should remain strongly faithful to Jack, let me know too! Thank you! :) ****xxxx**

It started off almost _too_ innocently. Ianto should have guessed then. Nothing was ever as vague as "four life forms, definitely not human." He wondered now how he could have been so stupid, how he could have missed this.

Gwen was late, no surprise there, so they took the SUV as just the four of them. The old team Torchwood, minus Suzie. Though the conversation flowed in the car as seamlessly as it had when she'd been there to input.

As they pulled up to the old warehouse, the SUV shrieked to a halt, prompted by Jack's signature, scarily erratic driving. Striding towards the grey building, Ianto pulled out his mobile again, dialling Gwen's number for the third time this morning. "Gwen," he started, strictly business, pretending he didn't notice the way Jack went deliberately out of his way to walk next to him, "we've texted you the location, we've querying four or five signs of life," a sideways glance from Tosh prompted him to add; "definitely non-human. Get here as soon as you can." He cut the call, sending a smile at Jack, which was returned.

"So, sure they're not Weevils?" Owen asked, shooting the question at Jack, but that wasn't who answered.

"Don't think so," Tosh said, consulting her blue box of knowing things errantly, "different energy patterns, can't make sense of it." Well, that was a first, Ianto thought, surprised. "Not a species we've encountered before."

Ianto threw a confused look at Jack, who was trying to look nonchalant, like he had it all under control.

"Well," Owen said, smiling tightly. "Let's hope they're friendly then."

Ianto saw the bomb. And, like all the clichéd, over-stunted, low-budgeted films he'd ever seen, time stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it all out. He thought of everything.

Everything he'd had, everything he'd wanted.

Lisa – of course. Seeing his whole life unfold in front of him; wife, kids, a _family_. He'd seen everything he'd ever wanted, with a women who was too good for him. Who could ask for more?

But of course, he had asked for more. The minute he walked into Jack's life. He'd studied him for months, thinking he could dodge his "flirty tendencies and irresistible charms" that had been scrawled onto every report filed under his name.

But he hadn't. He hadn't known that spray-on jeans would have such a strong effect on Mr Harkness. Undoubtedly, he wouldn't have changed anything that had happened for the world.

Unfortunately, it looked like he might have to.

Ianto grabbed at the rubble, trying to pull himself out from under the crushing weight he was trapped beneath, knowing it was pointless and futile but he couldn't stop.

He started screaming as the memories poured back, lemon juice to his gaping wound of a mind.

Once released from his rubble-bath, Jack leapt down the piles of brick, being dead only minutes previously completely forgotten. He had to find Ianto, he just _had_ to. He'd never forgive himself if he was dead.

"_Jones, Ianto Jones..."_

"_...love the coat."_

"_Girlfriend, Lisa Hallett."_

"_And you're the right hands, are you?"_

"_Finished! Done! Forever!"_

"_I'm game if you are."_

"_...Like the suit, by the way."_

"Ianto! _Ianto_!" Jack was yelling, tugging him from out underneath his cage of rubble. He couldn't breathe. He had to get out. "Ready? One, two, three...Come on." Gwen was there, helping too. He couldn't be grateful.

Oxygen was dragged into his lungs, and though he craved it, he couldn't relax as his breathing resumed. Jack's arm wound round him as soon as the Welshman was standing, making Ianto realise the problem as the older man's arm brushed against his.

"You okay?" Jack was asking him, though he barely noticed. The fire in his arm was raging, and it made it hard to see straight.

"My shoulder," Ianto fought his rattling teeth to get the words out. "I think it's dislocated."

"Can you take this?" Jack asked, concerned about the amount of pain he was about to put Ianto through.

However, the Welshman just rolled his eyes, sighing lightly at Jack's, in his opinion, pointless anxiety. "Yes." _Of course_, he wanted to add, hating to be patronized. But, somehow, he was touched at Jack's concern.

"Take a deep breath," Jack advised. Ianto obliged, but couldn't hold back the single, horrific scream as the bones crunched back together. Jack winced at this, hating to harm him but knowing it would do him good.

A few puffs of air later, and it was back to work. "Where are the others?" Ianto asked, registering for the first time that Owen and Tosh were nowhere to be seen. _Owen_.

"We need your help to get Tosh out." Jack said, though he knew that Tosh, despite being one of Ianto's good friends, was not his priority at this point.

"Owen?" Ianto asked, unable not to.

"No sign yet," Gwen answered when Jack couldn't.

Ianto sucked in a breath between his teeth, trying to hold himself back from charging off and searching for Owen himself. If anything happened to him... "If anything happens, he can't repair himself." Ianto reminded them, stopping the concern from seeping into his voice.

"Of course, he can't heal, can he?" Gwen recalled, inwardly cursing. How could she have forgotten about that?

"OK, we'll help Rhys with Toshiko. Let us know when you find Owen." It took Gwen a moment to realise that Jack was talking to her, and bristled slightly at being left out, but realised how little help she would be with lifting half a building off of Tosh. "And be careful, OK?" He added, silently urging Gwen to leave.

She obliged, bowing out gracefully.

Jack pressed a hand over Ianto's heart, firmly. Checking. "OK? All right?" He was far too concerned to even think about moving yet, but Ianto seemed to have other ideas.

He nodded, determinedly, making to pull away from Jack and venture across the destruction site. "I'm fine." Ianto said, tightly, looking away.

But, of course, that didn't satisfy Jack. "Are you sure?" He asked, capturing Ianto's face with both of his hands, staring deep into his eyes for the answers he knew the Welshman's voice wouldn't.

"It's just...shock. Who could have done this, Jack?" Ianto asked, sounding heartbreakingly lost. Jack pressed a kiss to his lover's lips, smiling.

"I don't know, Yan. But I swear to you, when I find out I will tear them apart. Limb for limb. No expense spared."

Owen opened his eyes, but everything remained black. Eventually, colours started to fog into view, vague at first but suddenly the clarity of the scene around him was devastating.

He made to move, remembering the rubble scattered across him. Pulling his right arm out from under the bricks, he made a slight scream when the window hanging above him nearly fell.

He stayed very, very still, praying it wouldn't fall again. Owen thought, errantly, that it was a good thing he was a corpse, otherwise he'd definitely need a spare change of trousers. He hoped that Ianto would find him soon. He would, wouldn't he? He'd come for him. Soon.

Ianto, Jack, Tosh and Rhys broke out of the warehouse, emerging into the damp weather, looking decidedly grim and worse for wear. Gwen and Owen emerged from the far end, Ianto and Owen's eyes locking for the smallest of seconds in silent relief.

"You OK?" Jack asked, glancing at Owen worriedly.

Who of course, didn't think of himself, instead looking at Tosh. "You all right? Tosh, what happened?"

"Broken arm, bruised ribs, about an inch away from being crushed by a girder." Tosh reeled off the list, sounding far too nonchalant and calm about what she'd just been through. Though, Ianto supposed, she didn't have a choice in the matter. Keep calm and carry on.

"You were lucky," Owen said, not entirely to Tosh. His eyes stole across to Ianto, who felt his face go warm under the touch.

"We all were." Ianto replied, trying to keep his voice from wavering.

"Jack, who's done this?" Gwen asked, looking at Rhys worriedly, clearing uncomfortable at him witnessing all this.

"And where's the SUV?" Ianto noticed, starting when Jack's wrist strap bleeped. Of course, Ianto thought. He should have seen this coming. Who else could have done something this horrific and inhumane? "Oh, no." Ianto said, sternly, when the hologram flashed in front of them, blue and wavering.

"Jack, what does he want?" Gwen asked, as if Jack could tell just by looking at him. Ianto thought that maybe this wasn't the most appropriate time to be pissed off by Gwen Cooper – Williams – but he just couldn't help it.

John started talking, and if Ianto thought he had been pissed before, he was infuriated now. "Oh, déjà vu! Or did I say that already?" _The smug bastard..._ "Hey, team. Of course, there might be a few less of you by now." _How can he sound so _happy_ about it?_ "Don't know if you liked my little gift. Course, you can't die. And with all that life, all that time, you can't spare any for me. Oh! Say hi to the family!"

And suddenly, a man flashed next to John that Ianto had never seen before, but who he felt like he _should_ have.

"No...it can't be..." Jack was whispering, clearly in such a deep state of shock that it was difficult for him to stay upright. Ianto would have run to him, if he'd have thought that would have helped.

"It's been a while since you've seen your brother, eh, Jack?"

"Gray?"

_Brother? Gray? Oh _shit_..._

"Okay, here's what's going to happen. Everything you love, everything you treasure, will die." Although it was impossible, Ianto was sure John was staring right at him. "I'm going to tear your world apart, Captain Jack Harkness, piece by piece. Starting now. Maybe now you'll wanna spend some time with me."

The holograms blinked out, and so did the confused expression on Jack's face. It was replaced by just one – pure _rage_.

They'd been lucky, Jack tried to remind himself, fighting to regain control of his body. They'd been _lucky_. So had John. If he'd killed anyone – if he'd _hurt_ Ianto – Jack would have ripped him apart limb for limb.

But now, he had more pressing issues. Like saving the world, for example. Saving his brother. Saving the people he loved.

No expenses spared, just like he'd promised.


	29. Chapter 29

**So, that was fast! I wanted to get the next chapter out ASAP. Depending on reviews and demand, I will post the 3****rd**** to last chapter of this tomorrow. :) So if you want it, please review! Thanks so much to everyone who's already reviewed, I'm hoping we can make it over 150 reviews by the end of the series? It would be amazing, and a fabulous end to a story I have **_**loved**_** writing. I don't want it to end – so if the demand for a sequel is high, then I'll start planning! So, please, if you want one, tell me, if you don't, tell me anyway! :) Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, if you don't review, I hope you just enjoy reading it! :) **

Everything went black for a moment, but slowly, things started to focus. Nothing had moved – it was as if time had stood still. Tosh was still clutching a broken arm, supported by Owen, Gwen was still curling her lip in fury, flanked by Rhys. And Ianto? Ianto continued to stare at Jack, seeking answers he feared the immortal would never give him. And with such a threat hanging over them, it seemed highly likely that Ianto would never get ask.

Jack took the lead, stalking back towards Rhys' car – it was their only means of transport now.

"Bastard John's taken our SUV." Owen growled, still holding Tosh up.

Ianto was consulting Tosh's blue bleepy box thing studiously. "Looks like he's driven it back to Torchwood."

"I'm getting readings of rift activity all over the city," _Oh, so _that's_ what all those squiggly colours and lines were_, Ianto thought. Tosh continued, "Major rift flares at St. Helen's Hospital, the Police Headquarters and the Central IT Server Station."

Right on cue, Gwen's mobile started ringing. She sighed, checking the name before she answered it despite having a pretty certain idea of who it could be. "Hey, Andy?"

"Gwen, you've gotta get here right now! I'm serious, we need you!"

How could she refuse that? "Okay, I'm on my way, alright?" She cut the call and turned to Jack. "This is him, isn't it? This Captain John or whatever he likes to call himself."

Jack looked grim as he ignored her question, instead saying, "Rhys, drop Owen at the hospital. Tosh, Ianto, cover the central server building." He had no doubt where he was sending Ianto; the place he thought would be safest. "Gwen, the police station. Then take me to Torchwood."

"You think we're all gunna fit in here?" Rhys asked, incredulously. Ianto almost rolled his eyes in exasperation, but for the first time in his life, he found Rhys' normality amusing rather than irritating.

"Yeah, we're gunna have to." Jack replied, still stony-faced.

"Jack, these are traps." Tosh warned him, unnecessarily. Ianto had a sickening feeling that Jack already knew.

"So be careful," the immortal directed this solely to Ianto, "you know what he's capable of."

"What about you?" Gwen asked, cutting Ianto off as he was about to ask exactly the same question. Well, he was going to demand to go with him, but the principal was the same.

"I'm gunna go reason with him!" Jack said, cheerily, animated for the first time, though Ianto could see through it. He was fucking terrified.

"He just tried to kill us," Owen pointed out, eyes flicking to Jack momentarily before resting on Ianto again.

"I was the only one who could ever control him. That's why the Time Agency partnered us." Jack replied, briskly, uncomfortable at mentioning his past.

"Did you just say _Time Agency?_" Rhys asked, incredulously. "Don't tell me that's based in Cardiff too?"

Jack did a sort of eye-roll-shrug, and climbed into the car, everyone following suit. Owen wasn't quite sure how Ianto ended up on his lap – but he wasn't complaining. Something had just occurred to him, though. "Why's he doing this, Jack? What does he want?" Owen's hold subconsciously tightened around Ianto – he knew _exactly_ what he wanted, he just wanted Jack to assure him otherwise. He didn't.

"That's what I'm going to ask."

Jack took a deep breath as the cog door rolled back, and as the music rattled through the Hub, he certainly needed that breath, nearly purple with anger.

John was up on the top level, waving a scarf over his head as he stopped singing and settled for just grinning like a maniac. Of course, he would have chosen this song. I Lost My Heart To A Starship Trooper by Sarah Brightman was blaring in the background; John knew how much that song irritated Jack. "Come on! Sing along! It's our song!"

The look on Jack's face must have been priceless, and worth a whole paragraph on its own. "We don't have a song," he said, sternly. "And if we did, it wouldn't be _this_ song."

The scarf dropped, and John started pouting. "You're no fun," he accused, lifting the cover of his wrist strap. It bleeped once, and the music stopped.

"Thank you." Jack said, relieved he could now think straight.

"I've been here quite a while," John said, smiling jauntily, starting his descent down the spiral steps. "What kept you?" He asked, like this was a date. Which it _wasn't._

"We all survived," Jack told him, smiling inwardly at that amazing fact. "You know, if you're going to set an explosion, you need to be more efficient."

"Oh them, they were just prototypes, had to test out a theory. How are they all, the little team?" John asked, his eyes saying that he only cared about one of the team – of course, Jack should have known he'd be set on killing Ianto above anyone else.

"What do you want?" Jack asked, wearily.

"I want you to know I love you." John said, breezily but also strangely honestly.

"Funny way of showing it." The immortal accused, leaving out the fact that he was already taken. He had to keep Ianto out of this. He had a feeling, however, that John wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"No, seriously." John turned away, his face darkening. "I really do love you." He swung around, revealing two machine guns, both rattling as they shot Jack to pieces. The immortal fell off of the walkway, into the dingy water below. It was almost a pitiful sight, John observed, stepping closer. "Because this...is gunna get nasty."

"Tosh, report on where you are." Gwen's voice crackled over the comms, startling both Tosh and Ianto.

"Just entering the Central Server. No sign of rift activity yet." There were stacks of computers everywhere, the office lighting illuminating them like any other day at work – but it was just Tosh and Ianto here now.

It was more than a little creepy – the tension rolled off of them in great waves, they were waiting for something to go wrong, for the building to blow up or go into shut down.

"This building houses servers the military, police, NHS, even looks after the server systems for the nuclear station at Turnmill." Tosh informed Ianto, still holding her, now partially bandaged, arm.

"What problem did they report?" Ianto asked; he could see nothing wrong here.

"Ghosts in these server stacks."

Ianto couldn't really argue with that one, so instead he asked, "How's the arm?"

"Owen gave me some industrial strength pain killers." She smiled, bravely. "Seems to be doing the trick." Suddenly, Tosh heard a ghostly howl ring out. "Ianto," she warned.

He turned to look, frowning slightly at the sight that met him. Three _things_ in monks outfits and carrying scythes. "Huh." It was almost amusing.

A voice erupted from one of them – which, Ianto had no idea. "Devils! Blasphemers! Pray to your heathen God." Ianto didn't waste time explaining his atheism, instead listened with interested amusement as they continued to threaten them. "While in the Lord's name, we cast you out!"

Tosh and Ianto exchanged a glance, turning to look at the advancing reapers, not having to say anything to know what to do. They pulled out their guns, fired them expertly and watched the "reapers" fall, dead.

"There we are then." Ianto said, matter-of-factly.

"Sorted."

John dragged Jack up onto the roof, explaining shortly that it was a "good view" when Jack asked where the hell they were going.

He tapped his wristband, calling each of the Torchwood members in their separate locations. "Attention...Torchwood employees! Evening all," he continued, quite pleasantly. "Now, stop what you're doing."

Gwen spoke first, daring to. "Jack, what's going on, are you okay?"

Ianto silently cursed her for getting there first once again.

"Jack can't come to the comms right now. But if you leave a message, I'll be sure to pass it along." John replied, tauntingly.

"What've you done to him?" Gwen asked, angrily.

"No, no, wrong question," John told her, grinning. "You should be asking, what am I about to do to you?" He replied, smugly.

Ianto couldn't stand it anymore. "Put Jack on _right now_." He sounded sufficiently powerful, he decided, and Tosh gave him a look of amused approval. Owen blinked, he'd rarely heard Ianto sound so...so commanding. It would have turned him on, had it not been used in the current situation.

Jack, whilst being impressed, cursed Ianto under his breath. Now John was getting interested. "Eye Candy!" The ex-time agent exclaimed, pleased to finally have caught his attention. He, like Owen, had found his 'powerful' voice sufficiently hot, and was now grinning as he continued, "That was so masterful, so bossy, so basically powerless."

Ianto rolled his eyes, wishing he'd never said anything.

"Get up onto the roofs of your buildings. Quickly now, spit spot."

Ianto ran, immediately. He didn't even think before moving. Owen, however gave it a bit more consideration. "Why?" He asked, concerned that this could be yet another trap.

"'Cos if you don't, you'll miss all the fun!" John said, patronizingly. "Hold on a minute," he stopped, clearly reconsidering. "Do I mean fun or do I mean carnage? I get them confused. Are you running yet? No dawdling now!"

Gwen started moving, ignoring Rhys and Andy's pained shouts behind her.

Back on the roof, John pulled a box out of his pocket. It was blinking wildly. Jack didn't have to ask to know what it was. "What are you doing?" He exclaimed, still thrashing, his heart sinking. _Ianto_.

"I'm sorry." John said, simply. Everyone was watching, he could tell. No need to wait. "Now...Cardiff. Isn't it pretty? Doesn't it twinkle so? Take a good look. Remember this...because it all goes so quick."

Multiple bombs exploded all over the city, some simultaneously, some long moments apart. The Central Server building rocked from the explosions, taking Ianto down.

"Oh my God..." Gwen whispered.

"Gwen?" Andy. Completely lost and devastated.

"Oh, God..."

Sirens started wailing, alarms breaking into the flames. The whole city, ruined. Finished. Ianto flailed to his feet, nearly falling back over with shock when he saw the state that the city was in. It was devastating.

"You've destroyed the city." Jack whispered, watching the destruction site with tears threatening his eyes.

"Jack, hold me." John asked, throwing himself into Jack's arms, which the immortal pretty much ignored.

Gwen and Andy were still on the roof, both searching of the right thing to say. "Oh my God, oh my God..."

"Oh shit. Oh my God. What do we do, what do we do?" Andy asked, utterly ruined inside.

"Okay. Keep everyone calm," Gwen instructed, struggling to comply to these rules herself. "Tell them to get every officer in. _Run!_"

Back on the roof, John still in Jack's arms, the immortal murmured, "What have you done?"

"It's okay. It'll all going to be okay." John assured him, still clinging to the immortal. A gold light erupted behind them, unmistakably a rift glow.

Jack started to struggle, near-yelling, "Stop! Get off me!" But the light engulfed them, and then...nothing.


	30. Chapter 30

**Thanks so much for all the reviews I've had on this - they're all amazing, thanks so much to everyone for reading this! This is the third-to-last chapter, please continue to review with as much enthusiasm and love as you have been - every review makes my day! :)**

I'm so sad this is ending, but thanks for all the support I've had on this. It's led me to my amazing beta - thank you so much Aimee, I love you! :D xxxxxx

Silence fell over the comms. It dropped over the group like a tonne of bricks, those few seconds of quiet saying more than any of them ever could.

"Jack? Jack? Jack, can you hear me? Are you there? Jack!" Gwen cried, over and over. Jack had to be there, he just _had_ to.

"I'm tracking a huge rift flare over at the castle." Tosh looked directly at Ianto as she said the final words, as if in apology, "It's been generated by the manipulator at Torchwood."

Ianto Jones felt his body go into shut down. Jack could be _anywhere_. Anywhere in the world – not even necessarily in _this _world. He'd probably never see him again.

"Tosh, Ianto, Owen...are you, er, are you okay?" Gwen asked, sounding defeated.

"Yeah, we're fine," Tosh answered, thinking best to answer for Ianto. The poor, devastated man looked incapable of speech.

Noticing the looks Tosh was giving him, Ianto decided to comply, and answered, "Still here." He didn't say anything about his current mental state. He didn't think there could possibly be words for how he was feeling now.

"Me too," Owen said, sounding very small and very lost. Ianto had to admit to the pain in his chest easing just a little bit at the sound of the medic's voice.

"Good, okay, good. Tosh, do we have the scale of the damage on the city?" Gwen asked, trying to focus her mind on the most important thing at the moment – the people.

"Fifteen major explosions, at strategic points across the city. There's currently a surge in traffic trying to leave the city but explosions have cut off all major routes in and out. Landlines, mobile phones, and IT networks all down, TV and radio off air. He's completely crippled us, Gwen." Tosh reeled off, allowing no emotion to seep into her voice. She'd completely break down if she did, and that was the last thing any of them needed.

"Shit." Gwen voiced the one thing they were all thinking.

Ianto finally found his voice, noticing something that was worth saying. He was surprised at how well he did I'm-okay-really, even if it was a lie. "Not wanting to be the harbinger of doom, but the systems which serve the Turnmill nuclear plant have all gone offline."

"Right," Gwen said, secretly relieved that Ianto was still functioning. Albeit being just a teensy bit jealous of him, Gwen admired Ianto so much. More than she'd ever admit to anyone. "Tosh, Ianto, you have to stabilise the nuclear power station, make that a priority. Owen, what's it like at the hospital?"

"Lost all power," Owen replied, shortly. "Back-up generator gave out in the blast. Every machine in this hospital is down. It's a disaster." _Ianto, I'm coming for you_ went unsaid, as much as the medic longed to say it.

"Okay, all of you, listen to me. We're gunna fix this. We're gunna put the city back together, we're gunna find Jack and we're gunna punish John. Now, I need you to be careful." _Ianto, please don't do anything stupid_... "Okay?" They didn't need to answer – the comms went dead, and Gwen knew they would be working.

"Where are you, Jack?" She whispered, watching over the city from her rooftop. "Where are you?"

Jack came back to life just as the soil covered him over completely. He knew he had mere seconds until he was choked by the dirt, by the lack of oxygen, by _something_. He sent out a silent prayer, clutching the ring that John had thrown in with him. _Please let Ianto be okay. Tell him to hold on. I'll be back. I'll always come back for him_.

Ianto was re-working the wires, trying to do something, _anything_ to keep his mind off Jack. He had a torch clamped firmly between his teeth, as if to stop him from screaming. He almost felt like screaming would help.

If anything could help, that is.

"Go!" He exclaimed around the torch, when he was certain that his impromptu wiring skills were sufficient.

"It won't work!" Tosh near-screamed, completely exasperated.

"Nothing, sorry," Ianto told her, defeated. There was nothing he could do – he'd reworked the wires a million times, and he was happy to do it another million, but there was no point. He couldn't do it. Of course he couldn't, he thought, feeling completely useless. What was he even doing here?

"We need to re-start the Turnmill servers," Tosh said, knowing the risks of what she was saying, but she equally knew that her life was worth the lives of thousands others.

"What if you can't?" Ianto asked, though he didn't need to. They both knew what would happen.

"Then the reactor goes into meltdown." Tosh explained, quietly.

"Then I'm going up there." Ianto told her, leaving no room for argument – Tosh had _so much_ to live for. What did he have? An empty life – one that had once been filled with a man who was now millions of planets away from him, lost and most likely alone. It wrenched Ianto's heart, but deep down, he knew he could never have Jack back. And without him, what was there left?

"What? Ianto!" Tosh – despite being the genius she was – hadn't expected that. She'd expected an alternative that she hadn't thought of, some hope maybe? She realised much too late, that there was no hope anymore.

"Look, if we can't fix the remote servers, there must be something I can do on-site to prevent nuclear meltdown!" Ianto said, though his defence was half-hearted. He was going up there even if it killed him – and part of him even hoped it would. His loneliness and self-pity was on such a different level at the moment that he wouldn't have cared either way.

"That could be suicide," Tosh reminded him, though she had a nauseating, nagging feeling that Ianto was already far too aware of that.

"Are we gunna discuss it, or are we gunna do it?" Ianto asked, impatiently.

"Okay," Tosh agreed, eventually. "But we both go."

Ianto just nodded. But he knew he'd do it alone. No way was he letting Tosh throw her life away when he could in her place.

Gwen listened with horror as John finished his piece. "...If not, we'll never find him. He'll be buried...forever."

Before she could react – either by bursting into tears or screaming, she hadn't quite decided yet – a piercing sound broke out through the Hub. It sounded like an alarm, but it was far too loud for that.

Out on the streets of Cardiff, Ianto and Tosh flinched, clutching their ears as the noise pierced their ears, too.

"What the _hell_ is that?" Gwen exclaimed.

In Cardiff, Weevils started to emerge from the sewers, snarling and growling as they attack civilians.

Back in the Hub, the Weevils are awake, too. Gray watched, smirking. One press of his wrist strap, and the doors open. The Weevils were loose.

"Oh, there's weevils loose in the lower corridors," Gwen told John, consulting the screen. "Stay there, _stay there_!" Seeing more and more weevils, she cried, "Oh my _God,_ what's going on, how did they get out?"

"It's Gray." John said, simply, realising far too late the extent of the damage he'd done. The power he'd bestowed onto Gray – wrongly. "He must be here in the city, he said he was gunna take Jack's life, destroy it from the inside out. A Weevil wake-up call could be just the beginning."

Back out on the streets, Tosh and Ianto flattened themselves against a door, breathing hard. "Stay there," Ianto warned, being careful to whisper.

He leant around the street corner, watching as hundreds of Weevils run past, some right past him. Ianto tapped his comms. "Owen, Gwen, can you hear me? The streets are flooded with Weevils', they came out of nowhere. There's no chance we'll get to the nuclear power station in time."

Had he known what Owen was about to say, Ianto would never have mentioned it. He would have braved the streets of Weevils before he could let Owen do this.

"Ianto, leave it to me. I can get there." Owen thanked the Heavens. Had he thought through Gwen's instructions, he would have realised that she had sent both Tosh and Ianto to the single most dangerous place on route. If he could give anything in Ianto's place, it would be his life.

For the second time that day, Ianto's world fell down around him. A million thing flashed through his mind, but he settled for the one that would sound most normal to the others, "How?"

"King of the Weevils, remember?" Owen replied, jauntily, trying to assure Ianto that he would be okay.

Ianto briefly remembered a function on his comms that went blissfully unnoticed by every other Torchwood employee. Something Torchwood One had installed in case of emergency. He tapped the side of his earpiece three times, homing in on just Owen's signal.

"Owen," he whispered, knowing that Tosh was too preoccupied with the Weevil situation to notice, "don't do this. Please. For me."

"That's exactly why I _am_ doing this, Ianto." Owen replied, smiling at Ianto's sentiment but knowing he wouldn't back down. "For you. I can do this – but I can't let you risk your life."

"But I'm supposed to just sit back and let you offer yours in my place? No way, Owen." Ianto growled, so agitated that the medic had chosen now to become unreasonably self-righteous. He supposed he'd do the same for Jack, but...well, it just wasn't the same.

"It's the least I can do. You've given me so much more."

"What, heartbreak? I'm a _horrible_ person, Owen. I left you when you needed me most – I couldn't be what you wanted me to be. I couldn't sacrifice myself to you. I _won't_ let you sacrifice yourself for me, I'm _not worth it_."

"Of course you are, Ianto." Owen breathed, marvelling at how he wasn't out of breath from running. "I love you," the Welshman could have wept at the words, "and I'm going to do this for you. You deserve it."

"I deserve _nothing_. That's what I'll have if I lose you Owen," the younger man said, voice cracking on his name, but carrying on regardless, "and I _can't_ lose you. Please don't do this."

"It's already done." Owen told him, looking up at the building in front of him. "And for what it's worth, if this is the last time we.." the medic couldn't finish that sentence, overwhelmed by the swelling in his chest if he thought about never seeing Ianto again. "Well, you know, I'm sorry that we didn't...get to do what I hoped we would."

"What, shag?" Ianto laughed through his tears, forgetting to whisper and full out howling.

"Well..." Owen couldn't really come up with a defence on the spot, so settled for, "that too. I love you – I'm so sorry that this is how it might end. I couldn't live without you, Ianto. You've _got_ something to live for – Jack's coming back, you know he is. Let me do this for the two of you. You've got a shot. A real chance. Don't waste it. I'm not worth it, I was never worthy of you. It was stupid for me to even dream I was. You made me see the light...and if my life is what it takes to repay you, Ianto, I'll do it. I love you. And if that means dying so that you won't, then fine. I'll die with a smile. For you."

Owen briefly thought of something, and pulled out his phone, typing a brief email to Jack, knowing full well that he'd get it. He smiled, pulling back the door of the nuclear power plant.

The comms went dead. Ianto let his final tear fall, as they had been steadily through Owen's confession. That was it. Toshiko, having bared witness to the whole outburst, held out her hand to Ianto, who squeezed it gratefully, abnormally pleased to have something to cling onto.

He wasn't sure how he'd get back from this. Ianto vowed, in that singular moment, that if he ever got to lay his hands on Gray, he'd rip him apart, limb for aching, worthless limb. He'd destroyed his world. And, sure as Hell, he'd pay for it.

"You did _what_?" Ianto yelled, dragging a great lump of unconscious Weevil behind him.

"Ianto!" Gwen shouted back, trying to get him to calm down. Needless to say, it didn't work.

"I didn't have a choice," John told the Welshman, hauling his own Weevil through the cell door and dropping it like a tonne of bricks.

"There's always a choice," Ianto growled, wishing he had a free hand to rip John's windpipe out.

"Can we just get these Weevils into the cells please?" Gwen commanded, undoubtedly thinking that she was, as always, the voice of reason.

"If we don't find him," Ianto thought best not to mention the double meaning to _him_ – either Jack or Owen – and pressed himself against the glass, drawing out the final words to make them as threatening as possible, "I'll kill you. _Very_ slowly."

Suddenly, the doors slammed behind them, comms jutting a halt in both Ianto's and Gwen's ear, the residual signal no longer buzzing.

"Whoa!" Gwen yelled, spinning round and trying to pull the door open. "What's happening? Tosh? Tosh! Ianto, my comms are dead."

John spotted the man waiting outside his cell, and tried to resist an exasperated sigh. "Gwen."

Gray looked into the cell, eyes cold and dead. "I let you go. I gave you one trip; you could have gone anywhere."

John stared back, tauntingly, daring him to react. "Question of honour."

"Gray? You're Gray, right? There's no need for this; we can help you. Just tell us where Jack is." Gwen tried to reason, but he ignored her plea's, instead replying, "His life's mine now," in a voice that made Ianto's blood stop.

The man – unmistakably Gray – stalked past Ianto's cell, sparing the Welshman one, pitying stare, as if seeing through his calm facade there and then. Like he knew exactly why Ianto wanted Jack back. Silently promising that he'd _never_ have him back. As if Ianto didn't already know that.

"Where's Jack?" Ianto asked, not bothering to act like he was at all in control of his body at that moment. He wasn't. "What have you done with him? _What have you done with him?_"

He didn't get an answer – Ianto didn't think he even wanted one.

Owen burst into the room, knocking aside the woman currently slaving away at the failing machines. "What are you doing? Get the hell out of here!" She exclaimed, trying to push him away.

"What the hell are you doing here, more like!" He retorted, smirking slightly, admiring her bravery. "The systems going into meltdown."

"A soldier never leaves her post." Owen frowned – that sounded like something Jack would say.

"Well you can now, okay? I'm with Torchwood and we're dealing with this." Owen told her, trying to sound reassuring and hide his nerves. He failed, miserably, the poor, tired woman seeing straight through him.

"Yeah? What d'you know about nuclear containment structure?" She asked, sounding extremely hostile. Owen could imagine that this wasn't exactly the easiest of situations for her.

"Well, you know, I'm only a layman, but I'm presuming if you've run out of power, then the containment structure's over pressurised. The containment spray and cooling systems aren't working so the fuel probably can't be cooled down, it's overheating. So sooner rather than later there'll be a meltdown and radioactive material will be released into the atmosphere. Yeah? Roughly?" He watched as her jaw dropped, and she nodded vigorously, looking completely dumbfounded.

"Roughly." She allowed.

"Right, you need to go." Owen told her, completely down to business again. "Be careful, there are creatures out there on the loose. Take this, it's a kind of mace." He knew it wouldn't be that much help, he just prayed she'd make it out alive.

"It sounds more dangerous out there than in here." She said, half-laughing, half-crying with relief.

"Yeah," Owen agreed, smiling half-heartedly. "I'd say it's pretty much even. Go."

She didn't need telling twice. "Thank you," she told him, sounding apologetic, before fleeing.

Owen smiled after her, before tapping his comms and turning to face the screens. "Tosh, you're going to have to help me out here, I haven't got a bloody clue what I'm doing." Okay, one of the disadvantages of going in on his own, but he'd manage it. If Tosh told him exactly how to do everything.

Tosh, back at the Hub, frowned at the readings on her screen. "Okay, I don't want you to panic, but the reactor's already hit the critical point."

Owen resisted the urge to swear, and instead said, "You're telling me it's going into meltdown, aren't you? And I'm at the eye of the storm."

"Yes. Sorry." She told him, sincerely.

"Right, can you fix it?" He asked her, despite being willing to give his life for Ianto, he didn't _want_ to die. Again.

"Of course I can, I'm brilliant!" Tosh grinned, pleased at her ability and thanking the Heavens for her brains.

"Yeah." Owen agreed, smiling.

"I'm gunna try and divert power from the auxiliary source back to Turnmill. If that works, I can talk you through restoring the coolant system." She picked up her blue box, studying it carefully. "Right. Now..."

A muffled bang sounded down the comms. Owen heard Tosh's shocked intake of breath, and started to panic. Everything was going to shit. Of course it bloody was. "Tosh!" He exclaimed, wanting her to laugh and tell him that she was alright. She didn't.

Back at the Hub, Gray lowered his gun, smirking at the sight before him. Causing such pain for him was still satisfying, even now. Even after he'd wiped out great nations with his thirst for revenge, he still got a kick out of murder. It was like a high for him. He watched as the Japanese woman pressed a hand to her bullet wound, watching the blood seep through her fingers, falling onto the floor with a gentle thud.

"Help me... Please."

Why should he? No one had helped him. No one _could_ help him.

"Tosh!" Owen screamed down the comms. "Can you hear me, are you there?"

Gray stalked past, appearing to carry the weight of the world on his hunched shoulders, despite his young complexion. Tosh imagined that he'd seen things far beyond his years. Hadn't they all? He pulled the wires out of all of her prized computers and complicated machinery on his way past. The computers fell dark_._

"I've heard people say death is such a waste. I imagine it more as a relief." Gray whispered, stopping by her and crouching down.

"Tosh! Can you hear me? Tosh!" Owen's cries went ignored.

"What's it like?" Gray continued, sickeningly. "How does it feel?" He reached down the throw her box into the autopsy bay. "Are you afraid? Are you sad?" He touched her face, gingerly. Whether he was trying to convey a threat or some kind of twisted comfort, Tosh had yet to decide. "You can tell me. The battle's done."

A deep, rattling thudding noise erupted, echoing out around the Hub.

"What's that?" Gray asked, clearly startled. He looked around, trying to find the source of the noise before leaving to put a stop to whatever had disturbed his probing.

"Tosh, talk to me. I need your help here, babe." Owen pleaded with her.

Didn't they all? Tosh thought, bitterly, starting to crawl down to the autopsy bay. But who was here to help her? She would die, she realised. And she would die completely alone. As she had always been.

It was all a blur to Ianto, until he heard Gwen shriek, "_Jack!_" and then all he felt was relief so great it nearly lifted him clean off his feet.

Ianto's cell door swung open, revealing a severely disheveled and weary looking Jack, stumbling slightly when Gwen pounce-hugged him, still exclaiming, "Oh God. Oh, thank God!"

The Welshman found his feet, along with a heap of jealousy – which he pushed aside – and staggered towards Jack, staring at him with disbelief. "I thought we'd lost you."

"Never," Jack promised him, grabbing an armful of the younger man and pulling him against his side. "Never." Ianto pressed his face into Jack's shoulder, just inhaling the scent of him and remembering _exactly_ how he felt – just in case he was dreaming.

If he was, he wouldn't waste a second.

Jack repressed a grin, this was the closest he'd got to "snuggling" – as he affectionately referred to it – with Ianto in a long time. The Welshman often turned his nose up at it, but now he was clinging to him tightly.

Jack was just so relieved Ianto was still alive. If he'd come back and he was dead...well, it would only be a fleeting visit home. He'd be off as quickly as he'd come back.

"Quite a queue for hugs," John remarked, smirking slightly at the sight in front of him, repressing the – admittedly, quite large – part of him that was nearly growling with jealousy, yelling how much he'd love to have _himself_ an armful of either Jack or Ianto. Or maybe even both...now, he thought, grinning; _that_ was a fantasy to be explored further.

Ianto dropped from Jack's side, settling behind his shoulder, keeping his glare trained on John.

"Always has been, always will be," Jack told the ex-time agent, grinning. "Nice use of the ring," he said, gratefully.

John practically glowed at the compliment, though he hid it. "Thank you. Least I could do. Listen, Gray's in the Hub..."

"I know," Jack told him, sounding uncharacteristically grim. "It's done."

Such a strong sentiment with such an overbearing meaning startled Ianto. Of course, it wasn't done. _Owen_...

"_And, obviously, remember to get out..."_

It'd seemed to simple. All he'd had to do was run towards a door, get to it in time and get out.

He hadn't even managed that.

Stupid, _stupid_. But, of course, he reminded himself, it hadn't been Ianto. If it had...well, he didn't know what quite what he'd do. The thought of never seeing the Welshman again – albeit making him feel slightly nauseated – was devastating. But it was his time to go – not Ianto's. Owen would go a million times in his place.

_Coolant Venting_ suddenly flashed up on the screen nearest to him, the machine it was attached to beeping violently. "It's starting," Owen warned Tosh, holding back a sob that wasn't there. Because he was already dead. What could he do?

"Owen..."

"It's all right." Owen told Tosh, and it was. It really was. To die of a gunshot wound was careless, but to die in the place of the one you loved? It was almost admirable. "Really, Tosh. It's all right."

Everything went white, Owen completely engulfed in the light that had been threatening his eyes for so long, always just out of reach. But it was here. It was finally here.

And it was okay.

Because Ianto was there too. He was here, he was _really here_, Owen realised with a jolt of his un-beating heart. And for the first time in about a year, Owen Harper finally felt like he was home. He was where he belonged.

_Finally._

Ianto flew down the stairs of the autopsy bay, staring at the screen with blank eyes. It should hurt...but he can't feel a thing. Not one single thing. He can't even cry.

"The nuclear plant at Turnmill." Ianto choked out. "Owen's there."

"Sealed in. Re-routed the blast. I couldn't save him," Tosh gasped out, desperately. Jack nodded and shushed her, sparing Ianto a singular glance.

That one look, filled with such pity and pain that Ianto could barely stand it. Why couldn't he hurt? He deserved to. It should have been him, it should have _fucking_ been him.

Even after getting Jack back, it felt empty without Owen.

_He_ felt empty. Like there was nothing. He'd reached the point of no return.

Later, Jack idly switched the computer on, if to do nothing but to check that they were still running okay. Suddenly, a message popped up on the screen: _One new email_.

He clicked it, curiously. He still felt dead inside, but it might help to return to normality, even if in the smallest doses.

_To: _Jack Harkness.

_From: _Owen Harper.

_Harkness – I'm warning you, don't fuck this up. He's one _amazing_ man, and although he deserves a Hell of a lot more than you, he seems happy enough. _Don't_ ruin it._

_Don't go all self righteous and self sacrificing; he's taken enough of your crap. Just...love him. For both of us. Please._

_Owen._


	31. Chapter 31

**(HAD A BIT OF TROUBLE WITH THIS CHAPTER, SO I RE-POSTED IT. THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO TOLD ME THE END IS MISSING - UNFORTUNATELY IT'S ONLY A SENTENCE MISSING, SO, I'M SORRY!)**

Also, just another quick note, I can either go two ways with this. My original plan was to follow cannon and do a '6 months later...' though not a direct transit through COE, because how cruel would that be? But I could also change it and adapt it for a sequel? The choice is yours - please leave me a review and let me know! I'll warn you at the beginning of the chapter of which path I have chosen to take. I'm worried a sequel would fall flat, but maybe not? Please let me know! :)

Sooo, penultimate chapter! (dun dun dun!) I'm quite happy with this chapter, I think I left it at the logical place, although it seemed a bit short and the next chapter is going to break my heart to write. I wish I could just leave it here, but I _**need**_** to wrap it up. The future can't be ignored, as much I try and tell myself otherwise.**

**I think that his chapter was inspired by going to Hub 5, which was **_**amazing**_** and Gareth was **_**gorgeous**_** and Aimee was **_**lovely**_** and Kai was **_**hilarious**_**, because it taught me a lot. Anyone else who was there – tell me! I might have spotted you! I'm really sad that this is ending. I thought I might give this a break for a while, y'know, writing fanfiction, but I don't know. I'm going to do nanowrimo next month, but I want to get another series started before then. I really wanted to do something AU – which me and Aimee **_**finally**_** discovered the meaning of after months of wondering – but my mind's drawing a completely annoying blank at the moment. Any ideas or requests, please tell me!**

**I really need you guys right now, and if you want to see another series started, please help me ****I doubt I'll break from this, I love it too much and I'm too big of a review whore to leave it for long! But****I need ideas, please? ****Please review this chapter – it feels kind of personal to me and I hope we can get as many reviews before this story draws to a close as possible! Thanks so much – happy reading! :D xxx**

Jack held the door open for Ianto, smiling gently, hoping for the first time in months, he might smile back. It was all he wanted – not even necessarily a kiss or even sex, just something to know that Ianto was still in there, somewhere.

He just wasn't sure anymore.

Jack frowned as Ianto shook his head, murmuring, "I'll drive."

Blinking slightly in response, the immortal let him walk round to the other side of the car, slightly miffed that his gentlemanly tendencies had been overlooked. But he couldn't expect Ianto to be responsive just yet – though a little recognition for how hard he was trying would be appreciated.

Sliding into the car, Jack settled into his seat in the comfortable silence as the engine started and the car left the flat car park. It was Ianto's car – Jack had yet to purchase one that wasn't huge and full of alien equipment – but he'd ridden in it so many times that it felt like his own. There was only one thing in this car that didn't feel like his own anymore – Ianto.

He'd distanced himself from Jack so much over the past few weeks – barely talking, eating or sleeping. He was taking Owen's death so much harder than anyone else, not just left with the brunt of the work but a heavy heart to accompany. One which Jack would be more than happy to take the time to mend, if only he'd been let in. Gwen had tried, but, predictably, Ianto had pushed her away. Jack hoped that he wouldn't do the same to him.

He hadn't beenpushed away exactly, but he was just never allowed close enough in to _be_ pushed away. Any hint of a conversation towards Owen, Ianto changed the subject. He tried to pretend that he was still interested in Jack, while it was quite plain that any physical – or indeed, emotional – intimacy was the last thing on his mind right now. While Jack wasn't after sex, not at all, it hurt that Ianto was so easy to cast him from his mind.

The immortal closed off this train of thought, decidedly uncomfortable with the grouchy mood it put him in, as if this day wouldn't be hard enough. Trying to convey some kind of comfort – Jack could just imagine how hard this was for the Welshman – the older man reached out, settling a hand on Ianto's thigh as he drove.

A sigh from the Welshman showed he was slightly uncomfortable, and a minute later a hand reached down to remove Jack's own from his leg. The immortal couldn't take it anymore.

"For God's sakes Ianto, every move I make on you now is _not_ an advance! I don't see how it can be so hard for you to understand that I just want to make this better for you. That's what you do when you love someone." _Remember? _Jack wanted to add, but thought better of it. Suddenly revising his words in his head and realising what a complete and utter jerk he had sounded, he quickly back-tracked. "I'm sorry, Ianto. I'm really sorry...I just...it's hard for me too, you know? I know you loved him," Ianto jerked in his seat slightly, but Jack continued to press the matter, "but so did I."

Noticing the sideways look Ianto was giving him – and Jack almost rocketed out of his seat in delight when he saw that one eyebrow was raised adorably – Jack sighed slightly, continuing valiantly, "I know it's not the same." A snort from Ianto indicated that no, it was definitely _not_ the same. "But you made your choice. At least, I thought you did. Now that Owen's dead you seem more in love with him than ever. Where does that leave me? More importantly, more importantly than _anything_, where does that leave us? I know that your grieving process is completely normal, I understand that, I truly do. Can you guess, can you even _fathom_ how many lovers I've had to see die?"

Eyes glazing over wistfully at the memory, Jack shook himself slightly and remembered where he was. "And no one was there to help me. How can you expect me to watch you suffer? You've always picked me up whenever I've fallen, how can I not do the same for you? I _love_ you. That means that I'll be here to help you, always, but why won't you let me?"

Ianto's eyes soften slightly, and though his gaze remained fixed on the road, he started speaking, "I know. I know you're trying to help Jack. I'm just...I just find it easier, coping on my own."

"You're not coping though, Yan." Jack sighed, rubbing his hands nervously up and down the thighs of his suit trousers. "I know you're not. I can see it, we can all see it. Even _Rhys_, Mr Unperceptive, told me and Gwen that he was worried about you."

"Are you all bitching about me behind my back?" Ianto threw at Jack, snarling slightly. He didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but he was so angry at everything right now that it was difficult to think straight, let alone deal with his relationship with Jack.

"Of course not, Ianto," Jack replied, gently, wounded that Ianto would think so lowly of him all of a sudden. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, we want to help you? Because we _care_. Gwen's at the end of her tether, Rhys is desperate to take you to his rugby club – for some reason, he thinks that tackling beefy Welshmen will help you channel your anger. And whilst I wouldn't ever object to see you rolling around on the floor covered in mud, I don't _quite_ think that that's the thing for you."

It may have been a trick of the light, Jack observed, but he could have sworn he saw a ghost of a smile breathe across Ianto's face, lighting it momentarily. It was beautiful sight to behold, even if a brief one.

"Maybe not," Ianto murmured.

"And I'm...well, I just don't know what to do anymore, Ianto. I can't seem to help you, I can't seem to do _anything_ right nowadays. I just want to know how to make this okay again." Ianto stiffened in his seat. "I know it seems impossible right now, but we're gunna get through this...aren't we?"

The Welshman's eyes finally fell onto Jack, smiling slightly. "I want to, Jack."

"So do I. I just need you to let me in. I know you feel like you need space, and trust me, I know how that feels, but what you need more than anything is someone to fall back on." Jack told his lover, truthfully. He knew this process inside out.

"I'm not ready for anything..." Ianto paused, eyeing Jack sceptically, "_you know_."

The immortal's eyes widened a little, and although he was blushing slightly, he continued to stare Ianto down. "I know you're not. And I would never force you to be ready for it when you're not. Any fool can see that that's the last thing you need right now. I'm here to listen, to talk with, to _help_. No funny business, I swear."

"I believe you," Ianto admitted unashamedly. "I'm sorry. It's just...too much for me right now, you know?"

Of course Jack knew. "And you're sick of everyone telling you what you want and what you need – just because you're grieving everyone thinks you're going into shut down, when actually, you're more aware of everything that's going on around you than ever before."

"_Exactly,_" Ianto's eyes lit up, the prospect of having someone that actually understood enticed him no end. "I don't want to be treated like an invalid..."

"Because you're _not_. You're still you, you just hurt a little...well, okay, a lot more. And you feel like this is the end sometimes. You start to see things differently, like everything was thrown out of balance when the person you loved died." Jack reminisced.

"You've always kept me here, Jack." Ianto told him, looking at him with more respect and love than the immortal had seen in a long time. "You've always kept me in balance – you always will."

The funeral was a small affair – a little, private gathering before the nation-wide, mass memorial that was taking place later that month to mourn all of those dead due to the devastation left in John and Gray's wake.

But this was just them. Just for Tosh and Owen. It had only been a number of weeks – two at the most – but they were ready to say goodbye. They were ready to let go.

Only four surrounded the double grave. Gwen and Rhys, Jack and Ianto, completely drowned in sorrow and nostalgia. The Vicar had long-since left, leaving the small group to sniff and wipe wavering eyes blindly, reminiscing and cherishing and saying a final farewell. Martha had been called away with UNIT – she'd only been able to stay for the briefest of hours, but as Jack had said, duty calls, and when it does, you can't ignore it.

Throwing those thoughts away, and trying to concentrate his own to Tosh, Ianto found that he couldn't blink the images away. Owen, Owen, _Owen_. There was no word to describe all the of the amazing things he'd been to Ianto – a friend, a companion, a shoulder, a rock, a _brother_, a – however brief – lover, a partner in the true meaning of the word.

Everything the one you loved should be.

Ianto allowed himself to drift, swimming through the memories gently, reminiscing and smiling and occasionally letting yet more tears fall. He let himself forget – suffocating himself in the melancholy and the call of home.

There was no Torchwood. No Cardiff. No _world_. Just Ianto and Owen. Just for a moment, that was all there was.

And, as quickly as it had come around, the memories faded, drifting apart like clouds separating in the way of the sun. Ianto's sun? Jack. Of course it was Jack, reaching out and interlacing their fingers unconsciously. The Welshman was equally unaware of how tightly he was responding, and when Jack's arms slipped round him entirely, Ianto let himself drift yet again.

But, for the first time, he felt anchored. Anchored to Jack – his rock, his _world_. Ianto could remember the past, but he was so firmly attached to the future and how he intended to spend it with Jack that he didn't _need_ to drown in memory. He could remember Owen with love and compassion, but he didn't ache the way he had for the past week and a half.

And, even if the ease in pain was just for a moment, Ianto intended to make the most of it. He hugged Jack tightly, hands slipping under the thick material of the greatcoat to cling to the man – _his_ man – as hard as he could.

As if anything else could ever matter to Ianto as much as Jack did at that moment.


	32. Chapter 32

**So, unfortunately, this is it guys. This is the end of this rollercoaster of a story that I have absolutely **_**adored**_** writing. It's captured my heart in a way I never imagined it could. I have loved every sentence, every word, every syllable of this story, and I really hope you guys have to. I've allowed myself to grow as a writer, and I'm so happy that all of you lovely readers have kept up, and kept reviewing, and kept loving this story as much as I have.**

**I hope I do it justice – I know a lot of people won't want to read this chapter because it's COE, but, well...I like to think I rounded it off nicely. I would really appreciate as many of you guys reading and reviewing this as possible, I'd love to give Better Left Unsaid a huge send off from it's amazing fans. I love you guys so much, you've really made this a truly amazing experience for me. Thank you.**

It'd only been a day, but if felt like years. And, sitting out in the rain, freezing cold and soaking, Jack Harkness mused that it might always feel this way. He'd almost forgotten. That cold, sharp sting of waking up alone, no smiles, no coffee, _nothing_. Because it was all gone now.

He knew that this wasn't just the raw ache of losing Ianto – he'd only just scraped the surface of the long-suffering years that fell ahead of him, bruised and drowning in misery without the man he loved – it was Stephen, too. Hell, it was still even Tosh and Owen. Jack couldn't be surprised at how much it hurt.

"_It's too late..."_

And it was that – the fact that Ianto had already given up from the second the 4-5-6 told them it was over. He had believed it. He hadn't even struggled. Ianto probably wanted to make it as painless as possible for Jack. He'd known resistance was futile, and so he hadn't fought.

He'd let death succumb him, and he'd left Jack behind. Stranded on a world that felt completely and utterly empty without Ianto – everyone else on the face of the Earth may as well have died with him. It wouldn't have made this any harder – in fact, probably easier. He wouldn't have to do the inevitable right now. He wondered idly if he should feel bad for thinking that. He shrugged, realising that the part of his heart which allowed him feeling had probably died alongside Ianto. Every other wrecked, torn shred of his heart had.

Jack knew that Gwen had already told Rhiannon – but the announcement must have been so rushed and insincere that Jack felt that he couldn't let it go like this. Rhiannon deserved the truth, even if the immortal would have to retcon it out of her later.

His blank eyes followed the passing cars, fixing on each one momentarily in a vain attempt to find a distraction. Rhiannon would be here any minute and he had to compose himself. He could blame his damp face on the rain, but his blank insides? He'd ran out of excuses a long time ago.

One car, he noticed, had pulled up outside the bleak, abandoned park. A woman was stepping out of it, only carrying a small handbag, but Jack could see from here the overwhelming weight of the emotional baggage she was dragging behind her.

This was Rhiannon. This was it. The closest to Ianto he'd ever get again. It wasn't enough – how could it ever be? – but it was almost comforting. There was someone in the world who had lost nearly as much as he had.

Her stance was hunched, walk nervous; the dingy clang of heavy-soled shoes against paving was doing little to enhance her overall outlook. Jack didn't suppose she cared. He'd stopped giving a damn a long time ago. People could stop and stare all they liked, poke at the insides of his black heart until they were satisfied with how broken he was – he'd even let them. What was the point in fighting? There was nothing to fight for anymore, Jack knew that.

"I suppose you're Jack." Rhiannon said, settling onto the bench next to him. They didn't touch – the immortal would have recoiled and probably vomited at any physical contact right now. He couldn't let himself be comforted.

"You suppose correct," he replied, in a voice that Rhiannon mentally chalked down to 'scarily monotone.' She supposed that he had lost more than she could ever imagine; any fool could see that. The empty, vacant gape in his eyes and in his heart could have been tattooed across his forehead and it wouldn't have made it any clearer.

"You picked a hell of a day to have a chat." Rhiannon remarked, crossing her arms securely across her chest, protectively. A man this broken scared her.

"It seems...right. If the sun had been shining, it would have been both stupidly ironic and scarily inappropriate." Jack told her, still staring straight ahead at something that wasn't there.

"I guess so." Rhiannon mused. "If you think I'm going to ask what happened, I'm not. I don't think I could bare it. But...were you there?" She asked, in a voice that Jack suspected was uncharacteristically timid. But then again, how would he know? He hadn't made an effort to meet Ianto's family before, and now he was paying the price.

"Until the bitter end," Jack nodded, trying not to let memories cloud his mind. He wouldn't have been able to reminisce and not break down, and he couldn't burden Rhiannon with that.

"How did you survive?" She asked, genuinely curiously. The immortal supposed that it was any excuse to steer away from the subject of her little brother.

He wished he could explain properly, but instead settled with, "Long story."

"Isn't everything, nowadays?" Rhiannon sighed. "Ianto's job, long story. Ianto's girlfriend, long story. Ianto's social life, long story. And _you_," she turned her head to look at him with dark, penetrating eyes, "you were always a hell of a long story." She finished, fixing him with a glare that almost lived up to the serenity of Ianto's.

"What did he tell you?" Jack asked, quietly. He almost didn't want to know.

"He didn't have to say much;" Rhiannon told him, "the look in his eyes made it plain. Just that you were gorgeous, _special,_ and his boss. Which makes me wonder how you were involved in all this. His death and...whatnot."

Jack had to applaud her – mentally, of course – on her ability to stay so calm. He supposed that she was like him – composed on the outside, screaming and broken on the inside. "I had to watch it happen."

Rhiannon's hand lifted up off of her upper arm, and hovered hesitantly in the air for a few minutes, before she returned it, clearly thinking better of any physical contact. "I would say you poor sod, but I don't think that would even scrape the surface."

"It wouldn't." Jack agreed, sincerely. "After everything that had happened...it was too much for me. I'm leaving," he told her, and before Rhiannon could even open her mouth to ask any of the questions beginning with w that Jack had learnt to detest over his many years, he had answered with, "as soon as fucking possible."

Rhiannon leant back against the creaking wood of the bench, sighing heavily. "He meant a lot to you, I gather?"

Jack just nodded.

"Bloody hope so too. If you were enough to keep him from...well, I would say living, but...in that one time he came back whilst he was...doing whatever with you, he looked more alive than I've seen him in months. So, if you were keeping him from...everything else, he must have regarded you in the same way." Rhiannon told him, blinking back tears that she had been shedding for the hours since she'd been informed of her brother's death.

"I like to think so." Jack allowed some emotion to seep into his monotone, and Rhiannon almost wished he hadn't. Broken vowels ripped out of his mouth, bitter words forming sentences which turned into streams of nostalgia and nausea. "He was a hell of a man, and I just wish I'd met him...before it was too late, I suppose. I wish I could have saved him, more than you'll ever believe. The truth is, just loving him saved my life. He saved me so many times, I prayed that one day I could return the favour. But I couldn't, I just _couldn't_." Jack let the tears fall, unashamedly. "I failed him so badly. I let him down."

"Hey, hey," Rhiannon shushed him, voice low and unbearably soothing. "It's okay."

"I _hate_ it when people say that," Jack growled, head dropped into his shaking hands in a picture of desperation. "It's not o-fucking-kay. Because I _failed_."

"You're a proud man, right?" Rhiannon teased, gently.

"This isn't about my _pride_," the immortal snarled back, jaded. "This is about me not being able to save the man I love. How can I ever live with myself?"

"Then don't." Rhiannon replied, as if it was that simple. He wished it was.

"I wish I didn't have to. If I could give up now, I would. But believe me when I say I _can't_." Jack told her, voice surprisingly steady for how cut up he was feeling.

Rhiannon thought better than to question that, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she wouldn't want to know the answer even if the older man had given it to her. "Where will you go?" She asked, quietly.

"I don't know." Jack answered, truthfully. "Anywhere that doesn't have these _memories_." Though, he considered, he was running out of places that he hadn't imprinted with his immortality.

"Desperate to forget, are we?" Rhiannon said, only half-teasing.

"Wouldn't you be?" Jack snarled, but then bit his tongue lightly, scolding himself. "Sorry...I just..."

"I understand," Rhiannon told him, gently. Of course, she didn't, but Jack chose not to pick her up on that.

"I won't forget." Jack replied. "I never could. I just...want to remember in a way I can handle. _This_..." he looked around him, helplessly. "I just can't handle it. I loved him, and that's all I want to remember. But that's just a wish, like I could ever truly forget him."

"Be careful what you wish for." Rhiannon warned, in a voice that sounded so similar to Ianto's that Jack could have cried to it.

Alone, sat in some stupid, achingly heterosexual – though he wouldn't have preferred a homosexual one, pulling was the last thought on his mind right now – bar in the middle of a town on a planet he didn't care to recall the name of, Jack Harkness sat down for the first time in days. He'd almost forgotten how, at a loss when he saw the cushiony barstool; it looked more alien to him than the green, slimy blobs that inhabited this planet.

He'd been working himself life a machine for the last week. After leaving Earth – the six months of obsessive drinking and frequent death seemed to do nothing to ease the thumping ache of guilt and hurt and loneliness gnawing on his heart. That pain was the only confirmation that his heart was still there; he wouldn't have been surprised to see a heart-shaped hole in his chest where the organ had been. He wouldn't have noticed the pain – on the outside, he just felt numb.

He'd left Earth, leaving the scars and memories behind – he'd always wondered about leaving but something had always held him back. That something, he realised now, had been Ianto. Losing him had pushed the immortal off of the edge. Since he'd arrived on this God-forsaken planet, he'd mapped out his whole journey. Renting a large, airy room in a block of some similar, he'd pinned a solitary, wall-covering map up, depicting the exact patterns the many millions of planets around here were played out into.

He was going to go _everywhere_.

He wouldn't give himself the time to rest, as he hadn't this week. He hadn't given himself time to think. Every time he did...well, it was inevitable who his thoughts would race to. As they always did. He hadn't slept, sat, _stopped_ once. He couldn't, wouldn't let himself. He knew all too well what a dark place his mind would end up in if he allowed it to wander.

He just couldn't do it anymore.

Jack Harkness stopped drinking, settling the intricately carved glass on the cool surface of the bar. He reached into his coat pocket, and pulled out the email that Owen had sent him all those months ago. He'd printed it out, and it was one of the few things he'd brought with him from Earth, amongst some of them were Ianto's stopwatch – too beautiful and memory-stricken and heartbreaking to leave behind – and his memory box that was normally stowed into his draw at the Hub, until he'd been forced to leave it at Ianto's flat one night. It was among one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

He also pulled out the notepad that Ianto had once suggested he carried about his person. Albeit good for SOS notes – which Jack had had to send out startling quantities of in his life – and adorning notes left for Ianto around the Hub, it had also made a surprisingly good make-shift diary. But now it was for one thing – a letter. A letter he should have written a long time ago.

Suppressing the threatening tears, Jack twirled his biro in his grasp, which felt achingly lonely without someone there to fill the gaps between his fingers. He supposed he would have to get used to it.

What else could he do?

Dear Owen,

...I wish I knew where to start. I suppose that there's no words to describe how these last few months have played out. I don't think any such wicked words should be used, should be _allowed_ to be used by anyone. I suppose devastating, catastrophic, hellish...they maybe come close for some people. But, for me, they barely scrape the surface of what's happened.

I don't know how it all started. I suppose in the past - as most of these things seem to nowadays. I did...something bad. And when I say bad, I'm not talking letting a few Weevils loose or causing a few deaths. Oh, how I wish it was that simple.

I suppose you can see right through this, can't you? You had every right to...back then. But...Owen, you see, these things that have happened...I don't think you could ever forgive me for what I've done. To everyone.

I've torn families, cities, _worlds_ apart. The newspapers can blame the aliens, claim it was all their fault. They could pin it on the politicians who agreed to it. But, for me, the crime I committed better those petty ones a million times. Well, I suppose better is the wrong word. What I've done is really, truly unforgivable.

I suppose I should just get on with it, huh? I think...maybe saying it out loud, or rather writing it, might confirm it in my head. I don't know if I can deal with that, Owen. But, then again, you deserve the truth. You deserve to know what a failure I am. If you thought I'd messed up before...well, you haven't seen anything yet.

Ianto's dead. There, I said it. I wish I didn't have to say it, I wish I could undo it more than anything. And do you know the worst part? I led him to his death. He was following me, just like he always does. But this time...well, the consequences were like never before.

He died in my arms, at the hands of the 4-5-6. You wouldn't have heard of them and you wouldn't have wanted to. They poisoned the air in Thames House – the _bastards_; they let thousands die. He died a hero, Owen. He died, trying to save everyone. He succeeded like never before. We won.

But, the costs of winning were worse than we could have ever imagined. I didn't just lose Ianto, Owen, I lost my grandson too. I had to sacrifice him to save everyone else. I wish I could say it had been worth it.

But, the truth is, losing Ianto and Stephen have hit me harder than I could have ever imagined. I've left Earth, and I don't intend to go back. How could I?

How could I face it all, knowing what I've done?

I just can't, Owen. I know you told me to look after him, and I really tried. I did. But...I couldn't save him. I sometimes wonder...would he have been better off if he'd have chosen you? Would you have failed him like I have?

I know you told me not to, but I fucked up. I really, really fucked up. And I don't know what I'm going to do now. I hope...wherever you and Tosh and Ianto are – because I _can't_ believe there's nothing for you guys, I just _can't_ – I hope he finds you in the darkness. And I hope you take better care of him than I ever could. Set his heart on fire the way I never managed. He deserves it.

Yours truly,

Captain Jack Harkness.

**THE END.**


End file.
